


Did You Know You're Knocking Hips With a Killer Queen?

by Obsessive_Fangirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-01-25 21:55:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 140,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1663811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessive_Fangirl/pseuds/Obsessive_Fangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He was going to get himself killed. Whether it was by Zelena, another enemy of his or even some of his former allies whom he had royally pissed off, Robin Hood had a death wish. One which the Evil Queen was one step away from fulfilling."</p><p>The Evil Queen and Robin Hood share a kiss. But of course, they still don't like each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The Evil Queen and Robin Hood's first dalliance, originally intended as a one-shot but I have a few other ideas that I could turn into a story if people like this.  
> I haven't written in years so I'm a little rusty; leave a review or something please because it helps me so much and brings a smile to my face :)  
> Title from 'Tell Me Where It Hurts' by Halestorm  
> I have to thank my beta (who is extremely awesome and made this fic a lot better than it was so yeah... thanks Sammy) and also my friends Sariana and Laura (tumblr users randomrover and whizz-bee respectively) for putting up with my excitement at this.

He was going to get himself killed. Whether it was by Zelena, another enemy of his or even some of his former allies whom he had royally pissed off, Robin Hood had a death wish. One which the Evil Queen was one step away from fulfilling.

“What were you thinking?” Regina admonished when she found him in one of the many hallways of the castle. Where he was he had no idea; he had just kept walking trying to figure out the best way to explain what had happened and had ended up in the middle of nowhere, quite lost indeed. In his defence all of the corridors did look very similar; the stone walls having a mirror or a painting hung upon them at some point, the polished floors reflecting the light off the candles placed at regular intervals and they all seemed to smell the same, what they smelt of he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it wasn’t an altogether unpleasant smell. At least until you were lost and trying to look for any clue as to where you were; then everything was unpleasant.

Robin had only wanted to make his escape from the gathering when he heard her majesty was approaching; the last thing he needed was yet another verbal sparring match with the very woman who was occupying his thoughts without his permission. But, alas, that was not to be. She was here, in front of him, with her hands on her hips, a perfect eyebrow raised and an expectant look on her face. “Well?”

“I was thinking that…” Before he could explain his thought processes, which actually did make sense if only in his own mind, he was interrupted.

“I don’t think you were! No one who has any common sense would think that--”

Robin cut her off mid-sentence. “Your Majesty, I fail to see the problem here; no harm has been caused by my actions.”Interrupting the Evil Queen was something that was simply not done if you wished to live another day. Apparently the Outlaw had always liked living on the edge.

“Tell that to my North Wall. And you don’t even have a source of income to fix it, _thief._ ” If it wasn’t bad enough that Regina had to repair a reasonably sized gap in her wall, she couldn’t fine him as a sort of punishment; what could a thief, who steals expensive and extravagant treasures just to give them away, possibly have to take?

He wanted to die. Regina was sure he wanted to die. She was already angry at the fact that she had a hole to fix, but discovering that the person responsible had been none other than the thief she was trying so desperately to avoid had stepped the anger up a notch, and now he thought he had the right to interrupt her?  She was livid. Regina was nearly certain that her breathing had increased and she could hear her own pulse pounding in her ears, her anger swelling as it often did when the outlaw was around.

 “My apologies. If there is anything I can do to help, your majesty--” Robin began.

Regina scoffed. “Oh? And what are you going to do, outlaw? Shoot arrows at it? You have nothing that could be of service to me.”

“I’ve many skills apart from shooting arrows, milady.” The thief was aware that his voice had gained a slightly husky tone to it; yet he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Apparently the way her chest rose—almost out of her tightly fitted corset—with every breath had affected Robin more than he would have liked to admit.

Having noted the way the outlaw was acting, Regina smirked and put on the charm; she was aware her smile could disarm men if she wanted it to. And if the thief wanted to play this game, she was going to win.

“Well I’ve yet to see them,” the Queen retorted.

“Would you like to?” he said slyly. With his hands in his pockets, a glint in his eyes and a devilish smile on his face, Robin felt very bold. But so did Regina. At least, she _did_ , until she’d let her eyes graze over the silhouette of his neck and up across his chiselled jaw  and instead of her usual desire to throw him to the ground and punch him repeatedly, she wanted to be on top of him doing… other things. That would not do. So with her arms folded in front of her and her expression morphed into something less flirty and more Evil Queen-like, she attempted to steer the topic away from the slippery, tension-filled slope they were travelling down.

“What I’d like is for you to stop trying to distract me. Don’t think that you can use your pretty face to get out of this one. There are--”

“My pretty face, eh, your majesty?” said the thief with a stupid smirk. “Does my appearance make you…uncomfortable?” Obviously, Robin was bound and determined to be insufferable and immature. He pouted and widened his eyes to look innocent and if Regina hadn’t been imagining biting those lips she would’ve found the face to be quite comical.

“It’s just an expression,” Regina evaded.

Robin took a step toward her. “You didn’t answer my question.” He was just close enough for her to reach out and grab his jacket without taking a step forward. And, Regina reminded herself, if she were to grab him it would be with the sole intention to push him away. Under no circumstances were the thoughts of pulling him closer entering her head. They weren’t. Not even a little bit.

“Do you think I’m attractive, your majesty?” asked Robin with a smirk.

The Queen straightened her shoulders, “I never said that.”

“You said I was pretty,” he grinned.

“I didn’t mean it.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” she answered sternly.

Their quick-fire banter stopped, a fact that the Queen was extremely thankful for. He was starting to get inside her head, the plan of keeping to herself and pushing everyone away until she felt together again was becoming increasingly difficult. If he was going to keep this up, she should get rid of him; bribe him with gold or something. Regina could not afford to have this man worm his way into her life, whether it was his intention or not.

It was. It _so_ was. And this was it, if there was ever an opportune moment to take a risk and finally act on instincts, it was this one. So, taking a deep breath and praying to whatever god of seduction there was out there, Robin looked in Regina’s beautiful brown eyes, took a deep breath and moved one step closer to her.

“And yet,” he breathed, “I bet if I was to take a step closer, your breath would get caught in your throat.” True to his word, he stepped closer, no longer at arm’s length. In fact if she were to bend her arms—which were glued to her sides, and if the queen had any say in the matter they would stay there—at the elbows she would be able to grasp his jacket. And, as the outlaw had predicted, her breath hitched as she glanced to his lips which were slightly parted, slightly chapped and entirely irresistible.

 _Please, just leave now,_ begged Regina’s thoughts, _you’ve made your point, just stop talking and walk away._

Robin opened his mouth to speak again and Regina inwardly groaned. “And I also bet, if I were to whisper in your ear…” He was leaning forward.

_Crap._

His next words were whispered with his cheek against her own, lips ghosting her skin and the feel of his breath over her skin evoking shivers to run down her back. “You’d shiver.”

 _Damn it,_ she swore internally, her body had never betrayed her like this. And whatever he thought she was going to do next she was definitely _not_ going to. Unless he thought she would punch him in the face because, that, she wouldn’t mind doing.

“And I think, your majesty, if I were to leave now,” Robin continued, pulling back, and Regina let herself hope he’d leave completely. But when he simply moved his lips from her ear to an inch away from her own she had to refrain from sighing in frustration, “you’d miss me being this close to you.”

Regina’s eyes drifted closed as the words were spoken directly over her lips, which parted upon a slow and deep exhale. Her tongue wet her lips which were suddenly incredibly dry and Robin licked his own before moving back, ever so slightly. Seeing the Queen standing there, eyes closed, lips parted, hands fisting at her sides in her long coat brought a smirk to his face. She looked… stunning.

She opened her eyes to catch a glimpse of his smirk. That stupid smirk. Up until a few minutes ago, she would’ve gladly wiped it off of his smug face. Now? Her mind was edging her towards kissing it away, and those were dangerous thoughts. Robin was shifting his weight, preparing to leave her and she vowed to herself that she would let him. Just let him go to prove he was wrong… but he wasn’t wrong. She _would_ miss him being that close if he left. Unable to explain why, she wanted him near her again. She wanted to feel his breath ghosting over her skin, his fresh, woodland scent invading her senses and his hands all over her. The thief took a step back and every thought Regina had entertained about letting him leave vanished, leaving her with her whole body itching to pull him close once more.

Her hands reached for the lapels of his shirt and she exhaled as she pulled him towards her, crashing her lips onto his. The force made Regina stumble back a step or two, Robin’s hands coming to her waist to steady them both. Regaining her footing, Regina pulled harder until he had her pressed against the wall behind her, his right leg wedging between her knees and his hands pinning her hips into place against the wall as he ground into her. A moan made its way from Regina’s throat to her lips and Robin felt the grip she had on his jacket tighten as her tongue swiped his lower lip. He tilted his head and deepened the kiss, putting more force into his actions as his right hand made its way upwards; trailing his fingers up her side, past the curve of her breast and once he had lightly scraped his nails along her collar bone – drawing a delicious sigh from the Queen – Robin moved his hand to the base of her head and grasped a handful of her raven hair, the secure up-do coming undone, not unlike the person who had secured it in the first place.

It couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds before they parted, Regina clinging onto his bottom lip with her teeth for a split second before releasing him. They were both breathing heavily, foreheads against each other trying to calm their heart rates for a second.  

“Regina…” Robin breathed out.

Of all the witty comebacks and sassy remarks she had in her repertoire, they all seemed to have failed her, leaving Regina to merely whisper “Robin…” in response.

“What is this?” he asked.

“I do believe it’s called a kiss, outlaw,” she retorted. Regina knew perfectly well what he was referring to and it wasn’t that. But she didn’t have an answer for him yet.

“I know that. I meant what is _this_?” The hand that was at her hip was now between them, gesturing from her to him then back again.

Regina looked away from him for a second to gather her thoughts which were in complete disarray. What was this? It wasn’t anything, yet. One kiss. That was it. One kiss that was quite nice. Very, very nice if she would let herself admit it. A kiss that she wouldn’t mind repeating. Her mind went blank, leaving Regina with images of his hands and lips all over her. That wasn’t helping her think about this at all.

What did she want? A relationship was out of the question. There was no way she could—or would—open herself up like that, she was still trying to piece herself together after saying goodbye to her son. Her heart had no room for anyone else. Besides, she didn’t love him, and a few seconds ago she didn’t even like him. She still wasn’t sure if she did now. No, whatever this was, it was not going to involve feelings. Just something to keep Regina’s mind off the impending battle that was undoubtedly going to happen between her and her sister—half-sister, if you wanted to get technical. Something to keep her distracted… that was what this was going to be.

“A distraction,” she said finally.

 Robin nodded, apparently feeling content with her label of them.

“Just to clarify; I still don’t like you,” continued Regina.

The latter sentence made him scoff with a mutter of “obviously”. If this was how she kissed when she _didn’t_ like him, then he was doomed if she ever actually started to.

“Shut up,” she said with a crinkle of a smile.

Before Robin could utter the words ‘make me’ Regina had her lips pressed against his again, her left foot making its way up his calf to keep him close to her. The hand that Robin had removed from her hip went to join his other one in Regina’s hair. Regina gave him a push away from her and Robin was confused as to what he did wrong until he realised he was facing the opposite direction and felt his back hit the wall. He opened his eyes to see the Queen looking quite predatory; with darkened eyes and her bottom lip between her teeth she ran her hands up his torso to his shoulders. Regina smiled before going back for yet another kiss, which Robin gladly gave. The hands that were at his shoulders were now untucking his shirt and making their way under it, her nails raking down his abs and forcing a groan from his throat. He snaked his arms around her until she was pressed against him with no room to move; her hands travelled around the path of his belt to his back where she dragged her nails in with enough force to make him hiss a little. Regina smiled in victory.

Just as Regina was about to suggest they move to a more private location than a corridor, the voices of the last two people she wanted to see made their way to her ears. Acting quickly she pushed herself away from Robin and set about righting her hair. Robin still looked slightly dazed when movement to his right caught his eye. It was Snow and Charming. They seemed to be in deep conversation and he took a moment to straighten his shirt before they looked up and saw him and Regina. Together. Alone. Their conversation stopped when they noticed; Snow walked over with a kind smile on her face, looking between the two with a slightly curious glance.

“Robin. Regina. Is everything okay?” she asked.

Regina was quickly looking for an explanation for their close proximity but couldn’t come up with one better than ‘ _we were arguing and then he tried to seduce me so I kissed him’_.

She sighed, “Well… if your definition of okay is for a giant hole to be—“

“It isn’t giant,” Robin muttered under his breath.

Regina was having none of it. “It is giant,” she said to him before turning back to Snow and continuing without pause; “a giant hole to be knocked into a wall by a thief that I now have to fix, than yes, everything is okay.”

Charming gave Robin a slightly impressed look, “That hole…that was you?”

“Indeed. I tried to apologize,” insisted Robin.

“You did no such thing,” argued Regina.

“I did!” Robin replied indignantly, “You were just too busy being too much of a stubborn arse to accept it.”

“Me?” This was better, verbal sparring, Regina’s comfort zone. She could do this. “You were the one who—”   

“Now don’t go about killing each other,” said Charming. Of course he had to ruin her fun. “If Robin apologized and I’m assuming he is willing to offer his help,” He looked to Robin for confirmation and received it in the form of his nod, “then I think we can work something out.”

“Of course we can,” said Regina with a smile, appearing calm. Although to Snow, Charming and Robin, it seemed more like the calm before the storm. She turned to Robin. “Today or tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry. What?” he asked, confused.

“Your execution. Today or tomorrow?”

Snow and Charming looked at each other with worried expressions; the last thing they wanted was for things to become even more difficult between the Queen and the outlaw. Robin, however, saw the mischievous glint in her eye along and the corner of her mouth showing the signs of her signature smirk.

“Well, that all depends, your majesty,” he said.

Regina raised an eyebrow, “On what?”

“Do I get a last request?” So, apparently they were continuing the dangerous, flirty game they had started earlier.

“Well, that all depends, thief.” Her voice dipped to a dangerous tone, if Robin was to say he didn’t find it at least a tiny bit sexy he’d be lying.

“On what?”

“What would you like?” Her voice was dripping with suggestion and the possibilities that were running through his head were not suitable to speak out loud. Robin spent a few seconds trying to clear images of Regina lying on her back with her spine arched, her hands in his hair and his name on her lips, and by the look on her face, Regina knew exactly what he was thinking anyway.

“For you to accept that you were wrong in not accepting my apology,” Robin said finally. Perhaps if Snow and Charming weren’t there he’d be brave enough to voice the more explicit of his wishes.

“Keep dreaming, outlaw,” Regina scoffed.

“Worth a shot,” he said with a sigh. Pushing himself off the wall he had been leaning on, the thief took a few steps in the direction he hoped was his room—he was still getting used to the size of the Queen’s palace. “If that was all?” He turned and began to walk away from the trio.

“I’m not done with you, Locksley,” the Queen said lowly.

“I’d be disappointed if you were,” He paused for a beat before turning back to Regina, “I still don’t like you, your majesty.”

“The feeling’s mutual, thief.”

He smiled at her. She smiled back. He walked down the corridor and Regina watched him until he stopped at the end and debated which way to turn for a moment before making a left. Regina shook her head with a sly grin before turning back to Snow and Charming, the former of which examined her with a knowing smile.

“What?” Regina snapped.

“He’s growing on you.” Snow stated with a smile.

“No, he’s not,” she denied. She would refuse to admit that. Yes, she had just kissed him but that was just a distraction; a way to focus on something other than her lost son or her crazy sister—half-sister. It did not mean she liked him. He was not ‘growing on her’. She felt the same about him now as she did when she first met him, with the exception of finding him slightly more attractive but you don’t make out with someone against a wall and not find them slightly more attractive afterwards. And anyway… he started it.  

“He’s growing on me.” Snow, apparently wouldn’t let it go, “and I can see he is on you too. Go on, admit it.”

“No,” said the Queen defiantly.

“’No’ you won’t admit it or ‘no’ he’s not growing on you?” Regina looked at Snow, prepared for an intense verbal attack. But from the hopeful look on the younger woman’s face, appearing more like the little girl she saved than the one she destroyed; she didn’t mean any harm.

Regina decided to fall back on her arsenal of retorts. “Fine,” she confessed, “he is growing on me.”

Snow looked slightly shocked at the admission, but smiled at her husband like they were sharing a secret.

“Like a weed,” continued Regina.  “He’s hard to get rid of, he smells strange and he’s everywhere he’s not wanted.” Snow and Charming’s smile faded.

Regina walked away, leaving the married couple to wonder what had just happened. Regina, meanwhile, was making her way to her room with a bright grin on her face; wondering when she would next be distracted, and looking forward to that moment all the more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things begin to heat up between the Queen and the Outlaw, however, they realise there is possibility of this being slightly more than what they wanted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well apparently people liked the first chapter of this so I decided to post any other work I do alongside it here for people to read :) thanks to my awesome beta again :D x

The Evil Queen had reached the end of her very short temper. Snow and Charming, being the caring people that they were, had spoken to Regina about concerns with her magic. Apparently, they were worried her powers could lead her down the wrong path again. Despite the fact that they had all been here for several months and she had yet to kill—or even injure—anyone. That was an incredible surprise, given Regina’s intolerance for stupidity and everyone else’s stunning capacity for it. Regina had been putting up shields and practicing her defensive magic. Yet, because she was obviously missing her son and it was common knowledge that she did not deal well with loss, they still viewed her as a possible danger to those she ruled over. She wasn’t; for all the damage she caused her subjects as the Evil Queen it was about time she protected them.  
And of course, since that kiss between herself and the outlaw in the corridor a few days prior, Robin had impressed the un-Charmings and managed to secure himself a place in their inner circle. This made it exceedingly difficult for Regina to concentrate on anything other than him and his damn lips during their meetings.  
She had left the last one wanting to kill him; he had started off sitting beside her with a stupid smile on his stupid face and every so often, when their eyes met, he would smirk and bite his lip. She could have—and probably would have—turned him into a cockroach if she wasn’t trying to prove to everyone that she wasn’t a danger to anyone but her sister.  
But for now, all she wanted was for everybody to leave her alone; she wanted a hug from her son and she wanted to plot all the ways she could get her hands around Zelena’s neck.  
Being left alone was out of the question, as a certain thief was following a few feet behind her. Her son was not here, so she couldn’t have the hug she desperately wanted. But as there was nothing stopping her from planning the demise of her sister, Regina did so with glee.  
“Your majesty,” Robin called, apparently tiring of trying to sneak up on her.  
“What do you want?” Regina snapped, not wishing to have anything to do with him until she had cleared her head a little.  
Robin jogged a few paces until he could stand in front of her, causing her to halt. “I just wanted to see if you were alright, milady. You seemed a bit…”  
Upon seeing Regina raise her eyebrow in a silent warning, Robin quickly tried to find the right word that wouldn’t cost him his head.  
He settled for “tense”.  
The Queen scoffed, not quite an acceptable reaction for a royal, but she paid civility no mind. Really? ‘Tense?’ He hadn’t seen anything yet.  
“Did I now?” Robin took her lack of murder attempt as a positive sign, though he wasn’t too fond of the wicked glint in her eyes. “Well, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m trying to protect my kingdom from the imminent threat that is my sister. I have Tweedledumb and Tweedledumber trying to tell me that everybody will be better off without my magic, and I have you distracting me at meetings because now, apparently ‘you’re trusted’ and ‘could be useful’.”  
Robin took this opportunity to try and divert her attention onto him.  
He grinned, “If I remember correctly, your majesty, you wanted me to distract you.” Moving closer to her, Robin placed his hands onto her hips, only for her to take a step away from him. His hands dropped to his sides as the smirk fell from his lips.  
“That didn’t mean I wanted you to try and look out for me,” she said. Her hands clenched into fists, remembering the outlaw’s attempt at sticking up for her when David made a particularly harsh comment in the Queen’s direction. After everything she had put both of the Charmings through, she could cope with a few idle threats and any of their snide comments. Besides, she didn’t need anybody to fight her battles for her, especially not this damned thief.  
Robin truly hadn’t meant any harm; he had just seen the slight hurt in the Queen’s eyes when the stress of the whole situation made David snap at her and suggest that ruining lives ran in her family. The outlaw understood the strain the man was under; trying to keep everybody safe, maintaining order and hope amongst his subjects. But that did not excuse what he’d said to Regina and Robin couldn’t allow the comment to go unacknowledged. The action had earned him a few surprised looks from the group and a fierce glare from Regina herself.  
The Queen tried to walk past him, but he swiftly put his arm out to catch her by the waist and gently pull her toward him. He stared into her eyes for a few seconds, seeing a swirling storm of emotions behind chocolate brown. Whilst she may have tried to put up a blank façade, her eyes betrayed her; showing the feelings she desperately tried to keep hidden.  
Regina felt slightly uneasy under his scrutiny, Robin looked at her like he understood everything she felt and that was not in the cards for her.  
“What are you doing?” she asked, voice quiet and slightly apprehensive. Definitely not the cold, authoritative tone she was aiming for. She watched as his eyes flickered down to her lips before he gradually leaned forward and capturing them between his own.  
All of the thoughts that flashed around Regina’s head dimmed until the only thing that she could concentrate on was the feeling of his lips on hers. Before she could tilt her head to deepen his kiss, he slowly pulled away, arms still locked firmly around her and gazing back into her eyes.  
“I’m distracting you,” Robin stated with a sly grin. “Is it working?”  
Regina’s thoughts were muddled by the intense desire to kiss him again. Evidently, it was working. But unwilling to inflate his already huge ego further by saying so, she simply raised herself onto her toes and pressed her lips to his, wanting more.  
He felt more than saw her smile, and Robin happily took that as an affirmative response. Snaking one arm to meet his other around her waist, Robin trailed his left hand up her back before clutching at her soft hair—which cascaded down her back in an elegant half up-do—and tugging, forcing her back down to her normal height with a short gasp escaping her lips. Apparently hair-pulling was a sort of fetish to the Evil Queen. Robin chuckled into her mouth and reminded himself to exploit that at a later date. Right now, however, his attention was drawn to fingers delicately unfastening the top button on his shirt. He pulled away and saw the Queen looking at him with an expression he’d never expected to see on her beautiful face; uncertainty. Robin was confused; after all the seduction, the kisses and the sensual looks he had been throwing her way, she was still searching for any sign of his hesitation. Robin smiled, brought his hand up to hers and undid the second button with her.  
The Queen hadn’t anticipated this; an honourable man looking at her like he wanted nothing more than to take her to bed and have his way with her. She looked for any hint that she was taking this too far, that although her body was desperately aching for the feel of his bare skin on hers, he didn’t feel the same. But all she saw was want and lust in his eyes… for her. Only her.  
With renewed passion Regina reclaimed Robin’s lips, undoing the third and fourth button whilst his hands fumbled for a way to remove her dress.  
Voices floated down the corridor and just like the incident days before, Regina’s first instinct was to pull away and dust herself off. At least it was, until she looked back at Robin and caught sight of his hungry gaze. No, she wasn’t going to stop this now; she wanted him to take her, and from the heat in the outlaw’s gaze, he wanted to take her too.  
And she wasn’t going to let anything stop him.  
With a flick of her wrist, Regina moved them to her room, leaving no trace of their presence apart from the dissipating wisps of purple smoke.  
Robin didn’t even take a moment to survey at his new surroundings; he was too busy attaching himself to Regina’s lips again. He finally found the clasp at her side and pulled it downward at a torturously slow pace. The Queen sighed as his knuckle traced her newly revealed skin and she shrugged her shoulders to dislodge the straps keeping the dress in place. When Robin lifted his hands off her body to clutch her hair, the dark navy fabric pooled at her feet, leaving Regina standing in nothing but sheer, black lace protecting her modesty.  
Pushing Robin backward and stepping out of the pile of fabric at her feet, the Queen kicked her dress to the side and grabbed hold of him again, removing his jacket and the other layers separating her from his skin. Opening his now-unbuttoned shirt and dragging her nails up his torso with the sole intention of pushing his shirt off, Regina dove for his lips once more. But before she could make contact with them, Robin gently pushed her back until she was held at arm’s length.  
If Robin was going to bed the Queen he wanted to make the most of the experience. He didn’t know if this was going to happen again but he desperately hoped that it was; he wanted to see her, all of her. So, he spent a moment drinking her in; trying to memorize the sight of her flushed cheeks, her olive skin and her gorgeous hair cascading down her back. The outlaw had heard many tales about the great and terrible Evil Queen; a woman who would stop at nothing to get what she desired, her savagery only rivalled by her beauty. But those tales did not do her justice, not in the slightest amount; from where he stood, she was one of the most beautiful women Robin had ever seen. He would have told her so, had he been brave enough, but there were no clear boundaries for what he was allowed to say and what he wasn’t. So he kept quiet; the limits were up to the Queen and, until she informed him of where those limits stood, he would take all that she was willing to give him. And at that moment, she was giving him her stunning body. And that was more than enough for him.  
Regina watched his eyes practically devour her, his hands caressing the path his passionate gaze took. She could visibly see the thrumming of his pulse increase. And when she moved to take a step closer to him with a coquettish grin, getting impatient with keeping her hands to herself, he let her. She bit at his pulse point, drawing a groan from him as her hands gripped his biceps and her hips ground against his. Deciding she couldn’t see nearly enough of him, Regina fervently pushed his shirt off his shoulders and tossed it to the floor behind her. Robin pulled the Queen closer and eagerly kissed her as her hands made their way to his trousers, tucking her fingers into the waistband, enjoying his laboured breathing and the desperation in his kisses.  
Regina was just about to remove his remaining clothing when there was the unmistakable sound of a knock on her door. Robin groaned as Regina dropped her head to his shoulder with a frustrated sigh, both of them breathing like they had run a hundred miles. The knock sounded once more with an accompanied “your majesty”.  
“One moment!” Regina shouted before pulling away from the outlaw and clothing herself again. Robin took a moment to appreciate the view as she turned and located her dress, bending gracefully to retrieve it. After she had hurriedly re-zipped it, she picked up his crumpled shirt and tossed it behind her in the thief’s direction. Making her way to the door, she paused at the large mirror on her dresser to correct her appearance, taking a second to right her hair and lipstick. She expected to see mussed hair, smeared make up, slightly swollen lips and the pink flush to her cheeks. She did not expect to see the brightness in her eyes and the small smile that graced her lips that she had not seen in a mirror since she had arrived in the Enchanted Forest.  
It meant nothing, she thought, absolutely nothing.  
After checking that the outlaw was outside the range of view of the door, the Queen made her way to whoever had interrupted them. She was contemplating the ways in which they would pay for spoiling her fun.  
As he was buttoning up his shirt, Robin strained his ears to catch the conversation between the Queen and the person who had ruined his plans for her majesty. He didn’t hear much; there was a request for the Queen’s presence at an ‘incredibly important’ meeting between Snow, Charming and herself. She told the messenger to give the message that she would be down shortly, then closed the heavy door more forcefully than she had probably intended.  
There was an awkward pause as Regina looked back to Robin and let out a small, self-conscious laugh, rubbing a hand over the back of her neck as she looked down. The outlaw, however, comforted her with lustful eyes and a small smile. He slowly walked away from his spot near the bed until he was right in front of her, tentatively reaching for her hands and lightly stroking his thumb across her knuckles before she glanced up at him.  
“Some other time, your majesty?” he said in a low voice.  
Regina nodded slightly with a breathy “yes”. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his lips and back again. He kissed her once, slowly, left her wanting so much more.  
Then he pulled away and walked over to the doorway, checking that the coast was clear before he made his way down the corridor.  
The Evil Queen breathed heavily, replaying everything that had happened. She had come to the realization that this game that they were playing was a dangerous one. If she was of right mind, she should stop before it became something too difficult to put an end to. But the outlaw was getting under her skin; he had this magnetic pull about him, and she simply couldn’t refuse his advances. And as she caught a glimpse of her content reflection again, she realised…  
She had no desire to turn him away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, incredibly sorry this took so long; both me and my beta have been incredibly busy lately.  
> Anyways, I don't own any of the characters etc...  
> (Rating kinda went up with this chapter - and will probably stay up - this is the most adult stuff I've ever written so yeah... apologies if it's not that great but practice makes perfect right?)  
> x

Two days. It had been two days since Robin had last felt the Queen’s lips on his and he could not remember a moment when he wasn’t craving more. Even now, with his son trotting out his room in front of him holding Little John’s hand, he could think of nothing other than finding the Queen and fusing his body with hers until he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

These thoughts made him too distracted to see Little John and his boy halt. He bumped into them with a grunt and bounced off of his friend’s considerably larger frame. Robin took a step to the side to see the cause of the abrupt stop. Raised voices echoed from behind Little John. It was Snow, Charming, a dwarf he had seen but could not name and the very Queen he had not been able to stop thinking about.

She was stressed. Robin could see that from several meters away; her shoulders were tensed, her arms were folded in front of her and she had a familiar scowl on her face aimed at whoever had decided to open their mouth to speak.

At that moment, it was Charming.

“I cannot keep living like this; I will not stand by and wait with baited breath for an attack from that witch. If a battle is what she wants then a battle she will get,” said Regina angrily.

The Prince put his hand on the hilt of the sword sheathed at his waist, no doubt an intended display of power. “We can send out men to find the area she is hiding in and then storm it. That way we will have the element of surprise on our side. We’ll capture her.”

“David, that’s too dangerous,” Snow began. “We know the witch is powerful, we know she has a plan and we know she is willing to kill for it. Or have you forgotten the five knights who went to search for her? All the search party could recover was their armour! We cannot lose any more men to that woman and we cannot give her a reason to hold a vendetta against us. We have to put the kingdom first.”

At which point, the dwarf spoke up, “Listen sister, I agree with you on the not losing any more men. But,” he explained, “if we do nothing we’re sitting ducks. We gotta find a way to defend ourselves, and if that means risking a few lives to save a kingdom then I’m sure that sacrifice is something in your Knights’ Code.”

Regina sighed, apparently having had enough of the trio disagreeing on their course of action. “If you’re forgetting, her ‘plan’ is to destroy me. There is no reason to believe there would be an attack on the whole kingdom. However, we can prepare for one. What we _shouldn’t_ do is look for her. That would lead to more people being killed and give her a personal reason to wipe out half the kingdom, which she would. So we shall stay in the castle, ensure we are prepared for an attack but we shall not send out any men to go and capture her. Understood?”

The Queen didn’t wait for an answer. She left, storming past Robin, Roland and Little John – all of whom had all been standing there and watching the exchange, unsure whether to walk past or retreat – without bearing them a second glance. Robin watched her go, concerned at the troubled expression she wore and the barely concealed anxiety behind her eyes.

Little John moved forward and lightly pulled Roland along with him. Both of the men were still slightly stunned at what they had just witnessed, though Little John’s mind quickly diverted back to Roland with a promise of breakfast that sped the little boy’s feet up until he was almost tripping up over himself. It took Roland a few seconds to realise his Papa was not directly behind him as he usually was. Turning to find his father, he tugged Little John’s hand until they came to a stop.

“Papa?” He tilted his head and his eyebrows knitted together as an adorable expression of confusion appeared on his face.

“One second, my boy,” said the thief. Robin held up his index finger in his son’s general direction as he watched the Queen walk down the corridor and turn left, debating whether to follow her then or try to find her after breakfast.

Roland, however, was quite impatient before meal times. “Come on!” he yelled, drawing out the ‘on’ until it was a few syllables longer than it ought to have been.

In a split-second decision, Robin told his son to continue on without him. “I’ve just got to sort something in my room, Roland. I’ll join you in a bit.”

“But Papa,” Roland’s expression turned into one of slight shock, “Breakfast.”

Little John let out a full-bellied laugh at the boy’s bafflement at the thought of anyone missing their breakfast, before scooping him up and continuing down the hall. He looked back at Robin and said nothing about his friend walking in the direction entirely opposite of his bedroom.

 

~*~

 

Robin Hood, the incredible thief that he was, managed to track the Queen with ease. He found her in the largest library he had ever seen; walls covered in mahogany bookshelves from floor to ceiling, matching ladders leaning against every other case, there was a plush-looking chaise lounge to the left and a large, heavy table in the centre of the room with a few books and empty potion bottles scattered around. The Queen herself was standing with her back to the door, trailing her fingers across the spines of a row of very thick books, apparently searching for something in particular. When she found whatever she had been looking for she gasped and quickly pulled the book out. She took a step back and opened it, immediately scanning the pages she flicked through.

At this point, Robin wasn’t sure she even knew he was there. He hadn’t been quiet when he closed the door behind him, but the Queen seemed to be too wrapped up in searching for something that she hadn’t noticed the sounds of his entry. He tried clearing his throat; either she didn’t hear him or he was being ignored.

“Your majesty?” Robin tried. He saw her posture tense and, for a moment, he regretted disturbing her.

“What?” Regina snapped, returning to her reading. The last thing she needed was for _him_ to be here. She’d come here to work, and ever since they had started this “distraction”, his mere presence had her concentration fully shot. She needed to focus on the spells she was reading, not the outlaw whose lips she had become somewhat addicted to.

“I was only wondering if you require any assistance.”

“No, I don’t. Leave,” she spat. Regina listened for the sound of his footsteps but, instead, was greeted by silence. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw that he had not left, but he had not moved closer to her either.

The Queen wasn’t sure if she was relieved or disappointed.

“What do you want, thief?” Regina tried to insert as much venom into her voice as she could; she swore to herself that she did not want him here. She needed to concentrate on her sister and her magic, but all she could think about was the way he would bite his irresistible lips or the way his hair would stand up in all directions after she’d ran her fingers through it.  
  
Her thoughts lead her nowhere and she vehemently tried to focus by tracing the page’s design with her fingers. If only her mind hadn’t replaced the paper with his skin.

Robin grinned slyly, unbeknownst to Regina who’d turned in the other direction. “What do _you_ want, your majesty?” he asked.

She almost answered “you” without thinking, before catching herself and forcing the word firmly back down.

“I want you to leave,” said the Queen.

He looked over her full form. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Regina answered. She snapped the book shut and released a sigh of frustration. If he didn’t leave she would either make him or make him wish he had.

“Are you sure?” asked Robin, “You don’t sound certain.”

“You asked me what I want. I want you to leave.” She counted to ten before looking back over her shoulder, only to see that the thief had remained still. Apparently, he still hadn’t listened to her.

The Queen couldn’t say she was surprised; when it came to stubborn tendencies he was almost as bad as she was. Nevertheless, she needed to focus on defeating Zelena and she couldn’t do that when he was here, distracting her.

“Why are you still here?” she asked, turning her back to him once more. She opened her book and looked for the page she was on before she had shut the book.

“Because, if you truly wanted me to leave you, your majesty, I would not still be standing here.”

Robin saw the Queen’s rigid posture falter slightly as she let out a sigh. He let his feet carry him closer to her and for a few seconds he merely stood behind her. Watching over her shoulder and seeing her chest rise and fall with her quickening breaths, he lifted his hands and gradually trailed them from the back of her neck, down her spine until he grasped her hips and gently pulled them back into his own. Upon hearing her sharp intake of breath, the corner of his mouth twitched up into a grin. Turning his head and pressing his nose into her hair to inhale the scent of her, his breath blew over her ear and she shivered. She leaned back further into him until her whole body was pressed to his.

“Are you sure you want me to leave, your majesty?” asked Robin in a whisper.

She did. She was sure she did. But not quite remembering why, Regina placed her left hand over his and pushed her hips back, smirking when he bit the shell of her ear with a hiss. While Robin lowered his mouth to the junction of her neck—the sensation of his teeth scraping across flesh drawing moans from the Queen—he moved his hands to her front until his thumbs were at the height of her navel and his spread fingers traced the bottom edge of the corset she was wearing.

If Regina had had any restraint when the outlaw walked in, it was gone now. Dropping the book, she turned in his arms and placed a hand either side of his face. She crushed her lips to his with such ferocity that it knocked them both back several steps until Robin crashed backward into a table. Bottles rattled, stacks of books shook and a vase fell to its death with a smash.

Robin swept his arm out blindly across the tabletop behind him, the series of thuds and crashes indicating that it was now free for other recreational purposes. He tightened his grip on Regina, then turned and lifted her onto it. The thief tore his mouth away from hers and his lips skimmed down her neck, over her collarbone and across her chest, leaving a wet trail that ended just above the sinfully low neckline of the dress she had decided to wear. Robin placed his right hand on the knee the Queen had hooked around his waist, slowly smoothing upwards, coaxing the layers of her dress up until his hand rested at the very top of her leg. He traced the sensitive skin of her inner thigh with his thumb, drawing breathy moans from the Queen as she placed one shaky hand on the edge of the table for support, the other clawing at his bicep for purchase.

The outlaw dragged his fingers over her soft flesh to between her legs, pushing lace aside and when he touched her right _there,_ there was nothing Regina wanted more than to lose herself in him completely.

“Robin…” she moaned, throwing her head back and leaving the elegant column of her neck exposed.

It occurred to Robin that the Queen rarely called him by his forename; she preferred the terms ‘thief’ or ‘outlaw’ or other, far more unpleasant monikers. The sound of his name leaving her lips with a throaty groan ignited a spark in his groin and he made a vow that before he left this room he would have her shouting it.

Regina had never thought this _thing_ with the outlaw would affect her as it had; this time last week she would have had no qualms about killing him, or at the very least making him disappear. The Queen was, after all, trying to curb her homicidal tendencies. Now, whenever he was in the same general vicinity, her mind constantly raced with thoughts of that damned thief and all the terrible, wonderful, _dirty_ things they would do. For a mere distraction this was getting very addictive; it was not something she could quit easily—not that she wanted to. _This_ was something that had her needy and craving more.

Regina could hear her own breath hitch with every thrust of his hand. Robin’s lips and teeth attacked her neck and shoulders, which would undoubtedly be left covered in his marks. He placed the hand that was not in the Queen behind her for balance. The outlaw could practically hear her brain whirring as she tried to keep up with her thoughts.

“Your majesty, relax,” Robin said into her ear, “don’t think so much.”

So she didn’t. Regina let her thoughts dissipate until all she could think about was the feeling of him. His skilled, archer’s fingers quickly made her body writhe and her lips release intermittent whimpers. Her hips rolled up to meet his hand and those whimpers soon turned into gasps and moans. It had been too long for Regina; Robin had only been working her over for a few minutes and already she could feel herself nearing the edge.

She tried to slow his pace, lowering her hand from his upper arm and placing it over the one he had between her legs, but Robin had none of it. He leaned over her to suck behind her ear and his thumb rubbed small circles with enough pressure that had her seeing stars as she came with a sharp cry of his name.

Pleasure. That was all Regina felt. No anger, no worry, no pain. Just good, pure pleasure. Her lips were parted and her eyes scrunched closed, her chest heaved as her lungs took in as much oxygen as they could. The sweat along her hairline had no doubt curled the wisps that had come loose from her up-do, and the Queen was certain that she looked disastrous. Yet as Robin withdrew his hand, she couldn’t quite find it in herself to care.

She expected him to step away, to clean his fingers and quickly leave. But when he made no such movement, she opened her eyes to see his face inches from hers with a smug grin upon his lips as they descended to meet her mouth in another kiss.

Where their previous kisses had been somewhat harsh and bruising, this was slow and unhurried. And it somehow felt different from the others; no less intense, no less passionate, but there was something in this kiss other than heat and barely restrained lust and it had Regina’s head spinning.

Robin wouldn’t admit it, but watching the Queen fall apart like that under his own hand had acted as a very powerful aphrodisiac. If he hadn’t told himself that this was about what _she_ wanted, he would’ve laid her down and had his way with her. But he had, and so he focussed his attentions purely on her.

“Are you alright?” Robin asked her, pulling away from her lips to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Regina looked into his eyes and nodded, a smiling tugging at the corners of her mouth before she leaned in and stole another kiss, one hand grabbing the front of his shirt and the other running through the hair at the back of his head. Robin withdrew slightly, his teeth nipping at her lower lip as his hands traced patterns into her thighs, giving both of them a chance to catch their breath.

Regina went to remove Robin’s shirt, but he grasped her hands, one in each of his, and placed them on the table beside her, holding them so they were trapped under his weight and the Queen was secure in place. Taking advantage, he lowered his mouth to just above the neckline of her dress, trailing wet kisses and gentle bites that had her gasping once more.

All attempts to free her hands had him leaning more heavily onto them. Although, “all attempts” excluded the idea of pushing him away. As much as she wanted to grip his hair and drag his mouth back to hers, she didn’t think she could breathe if he left her now.

The words “I want you” escaped Regina’s mouth before she could stop them; the need and heat and desire muddling her brain until she had no verbal filter. The thief, however, did nothing but tease, drawing a frustrated groan from the Queen.

Having had enough of letting Robin have his way, Regina wrapped her legs around him and pulled the outlaw against her, enjoying the groan he released as his hips ground into hers. Using his distracted state, she withdrew her hands from under his, grabbed his shirt and dragged him on top of her as she shuffled backwards on the table, capturing his lips in a heated kiss.

“Regina? Are you okay in there?” called a familiar voice.

For a second, Regina tried to piece together where the voice had come from. It hadn’t come from her, obviously. And Robin’s lips had been fused to hers, so it couldn’t have been him. Which meant—

 _No, no, no! Not now!_ screamed Regina’s mind.

The Universe was conspiring against her. It was the only explanation for this constant interruption, and _just_ when things were getting good.

And, of course, it just _had_ to be the “sweet and caring” Snow White, hadn’t it?

Snow’s voice called out again. “Regina? Regina!”

Sweet, caring and persistent, apparently.

 “I’m fine,” shouted Regina in response. Snow had to leave; she couldn’t do this to her again. “I’m a bit busy, though. So, if you don’t mind…”

 “I really need to talk to you about what we’re going to do about Zelena. I might have a solution.” Any chance of Snow leaving and letting Regina have Robin to herself vanished at that one sentence.

Regina let out a huff into Robin’s shoulder that created goose bumps on his skin. Slowly withdrawing and unhooking her legs from around his hips, she stood and smoothed the front of his shirt where her hard grip had creased the fabric before readjusting her skirt.

“I swear,” Regina said in a low voice, “truce or no truce, if she interrupts this again, I am going to kill her.”

Robin chuckled, smiling and smoothing a hand over her – now incredibly mussed – hair. He loved seeing the Queen like this; light and smiling, little trace to be found of the inner turmoil that she hid behind insults and wit. Once again, he felt this need to tell her she was beautiful, a need to make her smile more often. Before the words could escape his mouth, she backed him into the table and stole one last kiss, biting her lower lip with a smile as she pulled away.

“Until the next time, your majesty,” he said.

Regina hummed in agreement before walking to the door, opening it and slipping out before Snow could mistake it for an invitation to enter. Robin still didn’t know what the plan was in this situation of possibly being caught; would they pretend to hate each other to prevent suspicion, just walk out and not mention it or would they just confess to being mature adults? Robin could not see the latter being an option; the Queen did not seem the type to let others know of her private business. But the other options? He hadn’t a clue.

Robin reminded himself to find out at some point, and ask about those boundaries whilst he was there. The sooner he was not at risk of ruining whatever he had with the Queen by complimenting her on her beauty, the better. The next time he saw her; that’s when he’d ask her. Or at least the next time they were alone, preferably before they managed to get too caught up in each other. The thought of which had him licking his bottom lip, savouring the memory of her kiss and reigniting his need for her again. Next time… next time he would have more of her, all of her.

And if someone interrupted again, whoever they were, Robin would have their heads himself.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this update is a bit quicker than the last; I kinda owed you guys.   
> I was in two minds about posting this a few days ago but my friend talked me into it.  
> Anyways, let me know what you think and enjoy ;)

Robin awoke with a start. His heart pounding, his whole body covered in sweat and a fairly obvious problem that was going to be very _hard_ to deal with.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Robin stood, his legs still a bit shaky from the deliciously explicit fantasy he had just awoken from. Looking back towards his son, who was fast asleep in the bed next to his, he debated the best solution to his predicament. Obviously, relieving himself was not an option. A cold bath? Possibly, although there was a high chance of waking his son; it wasn’t the quietest of actions. It seemed like walking around for a bit, trying to clear his head, was the best he could come up with.

After dressing in a simple buttoned shirt and some baggy trousers, Robin left his room and walked down the corridors until he was outside Little John’s room. He raised his hand and knocked a short rhythm, then paused, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for his lone wandering around the castle before breakfast.

Before he’d had a chance to come up with one the door opened, his friend emerged. He was dressed in the long nightshirt that had earned him the Merry Men’s nickname of “Little Johnette” for several weeks. Robin chuckled at the memory.

“Robin?” Little John asked, “What are you doing here?”

“I need you to keep an eye on Roland,” said Robin, “I need some fresh air and he’s fast asleep.”

“Oh?” Little John stepped out of his room and closed the door behind him, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

His friend gave him a typical look of disbelief.

 _Think quick, Robin, think quick._  “Bad dream, you know?” said the outlaw.

Little John nodded in understanding, clapping a hand on Robin’s back before walking up to the room where Roland slept. “Take as much time as you need.”

“Thank you.”

Robin felt a small pang of regret at lying to his friend. But it wasn’t truly much of a lie, and he could hardly tell him that he needed to clear his mind of indecent images of the Queen on her knees, could he?

The outlaw made his way down the empty corridors, only taking left turns so he could easily find his way back. He needed to get rid of this desperation he had for the Queen; it was toying with his head, making his life incredibly difficult. If he’d known that Regina would be this addictive, perhaps he wouldn’t have tried to seduce her in the first place.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t have resisted her for much longer. She was everything he admired in a woman; strong, independent, witty, captivating and completely beautiful. It was bound to happen sooner or later, he just didn’t think that once he had had a taste of what she could offer, this infatuation would take hold so quickly and easily.

Maybe if he kept his distance for a short while it would fade, perhaps his craving for her had arisen as they had gone from tossing insults and tearing each other’s throats to tossing innuendos and tearing each other’s clothes in a matter of days.

Robin turned a corner and looked up to see the Queen walking down the hall towards him.

Regina was completely focused on fastening a bracelet onto her slim wrist; he could have quickly left and she would have been none the wiser.

But he didn’t; instead, Robin took a moment to admire her. The Queen always held herself with grace; that much was becoming clear to him. From the first time he saw her, when she had stood and brushed herself off – without his help – to the last time he saw her, when she had been arching her back and shouting his name, he could not remember a time where she’d held herself as anything less than regal. Although, he did enjoy mussing her hair and leaving marks on her skin that at least had the image of royalty somewhat compromised.

Not that he would admit it, but one of the highlights of Robin’s day was seeing what extravagant outfit the Queen had dressed herself in. He preferred the leather pants, tight corset and long jacket ensemble to her elaborate gowns (which could no doubt feed the inhabitants of Sherwood Forest for a week), but nevertheless, she’d look breath-taking in anything.

Today was no different; her long legs encased in black leather, her torso encased in a jewelled, navy corset and a long, black cloak flowing behind her. She was quite the vision, even if her frustration at the uncooperative piece of jewellery had her forehead creasing and her lips pursed in a way that was not so gorgeous but entirely adorable. Though “adorable” was not a word the outlaw associated with the Evil Queen, and probably not one the Evil Queen would want to be associated with, either.

The damned bracelet had just decided to fasten when the Queen was a few steps away from Robin. She didn’t get chance to look up before he reached his right arm out to wrap around her waist and he pulled her with him into the nearest room. The possibility of it being occupied hadn’t even occurred to the thief. Consequences be damned; he needed her to himself for a minute.

The Queen let out a shout of protest as she felt herself being manhandled. If it wasn’t for the unmistakable scent of forest surrounding her, the person with an arm around her waist would’ve been a pile of ashes at that point. Knowing it was the thief, however, had her smiling in anticipation, even if they would be having stern words about this at some point.

Regina found herself being practically dragged into what appeared to be a storage room of some sort; boxes were piled high against the left and back walls, a musty smell permeated the air and the only source of light was a small torch on the right side of the door – Regina lit it with a flick of her hand. The room was only several meters wide, yet Robin held her tightly to him, pressing her—not so gently—into the wall not covered in boxes before he pulled back to stare into her eyes.

“What are you doing to me?” Robin breathed. “A short time ago I would have gladly left this castle and wouldn’t have been particularly upset about not seeing you again.” Robin released her waist to put a hand either side of Regina’s head, caging her in, his voice lowered to a rough growl, “Now? I can’t even sleep without thinking of all the dirty things we could do to each other. What have you done to me?”

Regina couldn’t even find it in herself to look apologetic; it was good to know she was not the only one finding it difficult to control herself. But honestly? Regina hadn’t done anything to Robin; whenever she was actually about to get somewhere with the outlaw, they were interrupted.

And as much as it pained her, this time would be no different; Regina was on her way to a meeting between royals. Something about delegating living duties, as the royal staff they once had were no longer working there.

Still… she had a few minutes to spare.

“Nothing…yet.” The promise in her sultry words, along with the practically carnivorous look in her eyes made him swallow hard and stare at her lips.

“Tell me,” she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “what would you have me do outlaw?”

His mouth was suddenly incredibly dry, his tongue incredibly heavy. Robin had many ideas of what he would have her do, but in this heated moment, words failed him. “I… I want… you,,” Robin uttered.

“Wow, a spectacularly eloquent answer, thief,” teased Regina. She raised an eyebrow, sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and traced her fingers along his waistband. Her nails lightly drew patterns along his hipbones which had his brain short-circuiting and his breath coming out in short pants.

She slipped a hand down the front of his trousers, her fingers wrapping around him. Robin let out a groan as he threw his head back and took several large breaths. Robin put one hand on her neck, his thumb tracing a spot behind her ear as his fingertips dug into her skin. His other hand moved down to the one she had tucked into his waistband and aided her in pulling the band out and down until they were pooling around his ankles and he had nothing protecting him. Regina raised an eyebrow. _Impressive_.

Robin tilted his head forward to watch the Queen’s hand move back and forth before lifting his heated gaze to hers, flitting to her parted lips then back to her eyes, practically black with desire. Regina brought her free hand up to the one he had on her neck and lightly squeezed as she nipped her way from his ear to his collar bone, soothing particularly harsh bites with a few languid swipes of her tongue.

“What do you want, Robin? Tell me.”  She breathed over the wet trail she had made, the contrast in temperature making goose-bumps break out all over his skin. “Tell me… and I’ll give it to you.”

It was too much. How was Robin supposed to answer when she had him in the palm of her hand, moving so torturously slowly that he was seconds away from snapping and taking her against the wall? There were too many things he wanted; he wanted her to carry on stroking him, he wanted her to stop and take him into her mouth, he wanted to bury himself inside her, he wanted everything…

“Come on Outlaw, I don’t have all day,” said Regina impatiently.

When the Queen unfastened his shirt to kiss his collar bone, then trailed her lips up to the top of his shoulder, pausing to nip and suck the taut skin, the outlaw made up his mind.

“Your lips,” Robin’s hand gripped her hip hard enough to bruise. “I want your lips.”

Robin felt her grin into his shoulder as she chuckled. “You want my lips? Where?” Regina placed a kiss at the junction between his neck and shoulders, “here?” She placed another kiss under his jaw, “here?” and another at the corner of his mouth, “here?”

She was trying to kill him. Slowly. He couldn’t think of any other reason for what she was doing to him. He was Robin Hood; Prince of Thieves, an honourable human being and he could be somewhat irresistible if he wanted to be. He was not a man who could be easily reduced to an incoherent mess. Yet here he was, unable to string a few words together because in front of him was a gorgeous woman with a perfect pair of lips, a sultry voice and one hell of a flawless body. And she was using all of those—and more—to drive him to the brink of insanity.

“Or perhaps,” Regina trailed her lips back down the path they had taken up his neck, then went further and dropped a few kisses down his chest, “you were thinking somewhere,” when her kisses reached so far down his torso that she had no choice but to kneel, Robin bit his lip so hard he swore he drew blood, “lower.”

The Queen looked up at him through her eyelashes with a mischievous grin, placing a kiss just above his navel before she started to work her way back up. Without thinking, Robin put a hand on her shoulder, halting her movements as he released his thoroughly bitten lip. Regina chuckled. He caught sight of her smile before she put her lips right where he wanted them.

Then he was lost.

Regina placed several open mouthed kisses along him, from base to tip, enjoying the groan Robin let out as his left hand found its way into the Queen’s hair and his right splayed against the wall in front of him, fingertips turning white with the pressure of his weight.

He desperately tried to keep his hips still as his hand fisted in Regina's hair, clenching then releasing as if it was impossible to keep still, but when she took all of him into her mouth in one swift movement he couldn’t help but jerk into her. Regina’s hands came up to his hips to steady him as she hollowed her cheeks with every upstroke and he released several grunts and a few moans of “Oh, Regina”.

The outlaw tried to hold back for as long as possible. Honestly, he did. But the Queen pressed her tongue against the underside of him and her teeth lightly scraped the top of him with every dip of her head, and he lost it.

Robin’s whole body jerked with the force of his climax. He moaned, a mixture of the Queen’s name and expletives that were quite unlike him to say. His grip on Regina’s hair tightened as he felt her swallow around him, the vibrations from her own moans sending shockwaves through him from head to toe.

When he had regained enough strength, Robin used his grip on the Queen’s hair to pull her back up to him, taking a split second to take in the lustful haze in her eyes and the swollen lips that had now branded him for life, before kissing away her infuriatingly smug smile. Her hands reached up to grasp his elbows as his tongue tangled with hers, both of their breaths quite laboured.

“Wow,” Robin breathed when they parted, “that was… wow.”

Regina let out a self-satisfied chuckle as she pulled his trousers back up and over his hips, “Well, as much as I don’t want to, I have to leave.”

Robin wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer until their entire bodies were pressed together. “No,” he mumbled as he buried his head into her shoulder. Regina laughed at his petulant tone as his hands trailed up and down her back as he placed kisses wherever his mouth could reach, “not yet.”

“Robin,” she warned as she tried to pull away, although the smile she had on her face made any attempts to be stern with him null and void. “I need to go; I have a meeting that I’m probably already late for, they’ll be wondering where I am.”

“You’re the Queen, they can wait.” Regina didn’t get a chance to reply before Robin’s lips found their way to hers.

Regina really did need to leave; no doubt Snow would come looking for her if she was not there soon. But Robin sucked her lower lip into his mouth and dragged the tip of his tongue over it, drawing a whimper.

_They can wait._

Regina spun them both and pushed Robin back into the wall, assaulting his lips as her hands grasped the collar of his still-unbuttoned shirt. She ran her tongue along the back of his teeth before tracing an “R” on the roof of his mouth.

Robin tore his mouth away from hers to moan, “God, Regina.”

“Robin, I really…” Regina was interrupted again by his lips on hers. After a few seconds of indulging him, she pulled away until their foreheads rested against each other, “I really, _really_ have to go.”

Robin opened his eyes to see a reassuring smile on the Queen’s face. “I’ll see you later,” she promised.

It was somewhat comforting; the idea that she didn’t want to part with him either. With a resigned smile he placed his hands on her cheeks, “You had better.”

They shared one more kiss before Regina let herself out with a small smile etched on her face, leaving Robin to let out a content sigh and rest his head back against the wall.

He was in trouble. He was in _deep_ trouble. When all he had was his imagination to go on, he could perhaps convince himself that he was being generous in his fantasies; that, as sexy as she may be, there must be some area of this that was not in her expertise. But so far, Robin couldn’t find a fault; she could reduce him to an incoherent puddle of lust with one look, she could take him in her hand and he’d do anything she wanted. And yes, he knew she was a damn good kisser, but now that he knew what that mouth could actually do, he would never be able to keep his focus around her again. She had ruined him. She would continue to ruin him.

And he would love every second of it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know I said I wouldn't leave it this long again, but this chapter did not want to be written. Firstly, my brain didn't want to work on this chapter because it was looking forward to the next one. And secondly, my laptop has been having a few problems and I ended up losing around 2,500 words so I had to rewrite almost all of it. And thirdly, this chapter is a long one, so I'm hoping between this long one and the next one that I'll have made it up to you somewhat :)
> 
> But again, please review or leave kudos or whatever because it makes me smile and more motivated to write quicker  
> xXx

The meeting that dragged Regina away from Robin was wrapped up fairly quickly. They discussed the general rules of setting times for meals for the inhabitants, what information the group would share with the kingdom and determined which rooms or hallways would be out of bounds to whom. It had only taken around an hour. It was the quickest meeting the Queen had attended in the time they had been at the castle, which was a relief; the sooner Regina had time to spare, the sooner she could get back to the thief.

Unfortunately, Snow and Charming had insisted that Regina come with them for breakfast, so the outlaw was going to have to wait just a bit longer.

“Robin?” Snow said the thief’s name and Regina panicked, thinking she had voiced her thoughts aloud. However, when she looked up and saw the outlaw walking towards them, her alarmed expression turned into a mischievous smirk.

However, the closer Robin got to them, the more obvious it was that something was not right; his shoulders were tense, his eyes were cast downwards and his arms were folded in front of him. When he looked up, he seemed almost irritated.

Snow didn’t seem to notice the outlaw’s sour mood and continued, “We’re going for breakfast. Have you already been?”

“No,” came Robin’s curt reply.

“Would you like to join us?” asked Snow sweetly.

The outlaw paused for a moment before replying, “No, thank you.”

The Charmings misinterpreted Robin’s hesitation for reluctance to dine with the Queen. “We’ll keep Regina in check,” Snow promised, “Sit with us.”

“Yeah, you’ll behave, right Regina?” Charming asked, attempting to have fellow male company.

“Of course, I don’t bite,” Regina smiled, lowering her voice, “Much.”

“I said no,” Robin snapped, the smile on Regina’s face disappeared. “I don’t need a verbal sparring match from you,” he pointed a finger at the Queen, “or endless optimism from you,” his gaze turned to the Charmings. “So, please, leave me be,” before he stormed past them, brushing shoulders with Regina.

Snow and Charming walked ahead. “Somebody got up on the wrong side of bed this morning,” muttered David. They both paused when they realised that Regina was no longer with them. The couple looked back to see where the Queen was and saw her heading in the direction the outlaw had left in.

“Regina… is that really wise?” Snow called after her.

“He seems pretty riled up Regina, don’t make it worse,” said David in agreement.

Regina turned to see both Charmings looking at her with pleading eyes, hoping to avoid any potential argument between the Queen and the outlaw. Although, the job was practically impossible regardless of their…arrangement.

“Don’t worry, I won’t try to kill him,” said Regina. She turned and, without looking back, called, “Go to breakfast, I’ll join you afterward.”

The couple looked at each other, bottom lips sticking out in identical expressions as they shrugged their shoulders. And with the rumbling of Charming’s stomach, they laughed and headed down to the main hall for food.

…

“Robin?” Regina shouted as she caught up with him, grabbing his elbow, “what was that about?”

Robin pulled his arm out of her grasp and carried on walking without even glancing at her.

Something was wrong. Regina knew it; he was tense, he wouldn’t look at her and he had snapped at both her _and_ Snow. Over the past few months, Regina had come to expect his sharp tongue, had even come to enjoy it somewhat; it made a refreshing change from the Charmings’ softly-softly approach. But he had never snapped at Snow before, and that was just unlike him.

Determined to get to the bottom of it, Regina grabbed at his elbow, her grip a little firmer and she tugged him down the next corridor on the right, away from prying eyes. She turned and backed him into the wall, putting a firm hand on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Regina asked, her tone softer than he had ever heard it.

“Nothing,” Robin replied.

The Queen hardened her tone in warning, “Robin. Something’s wrong.”

Robin sighed, and as he exhaled all the tension he had held dissipated. “My friend is ill. Very ill. We’re all worried about him. The healer said…” When his voice trailed off, unable to continue, Regina felt a small ache within her, wanting to offer some kind of comfort but not knowing where to start.

Robin brought his hand up to rub at his forehead and a pained expression crossed his face. He couldn’t say anything else.

It was a few seconds before Regina made any movement. Robin was obviously hurting, and Regina didn’t want to push any further; it was clear the state of his friend had him and his men worked up to the point that they couldn’t focus on anything else.

She couldn’t really do much for the Merry Men, but Robin? She could at least try and help take his mind off things. So she wrapped her fingers around the hand rubbing his forehead and lowered it from his face. Before Robin could raise his eyes to look at her, she had risen onto her toes and gently pressed her lips to his.

The Queen was not expecting Robin to ravage her against the wall, but perhaps something a little more than a slight increase in pressure against her lips would have been nice. She took their joined hands and trailed them down her side before letting his hand rest on her hip, encouraging him to pull her closer.

Aside from the slight clenching of his fingers at her side and pressing a little harder against her, he didn’t respond.  Beginning to feel like she had made a mistake in attempting to distract him, Regina started to pull away. But the second their lips parted, Robin’s other hand came up to her neck and held her in place. Regina placed her left hand over the one Robin had on her neck and her right trailed up his chest to lie over his heart as she sighed against his lips. For a few moments, the outlaw drew strength from the Queen’s kiss, the mere press of their lips, before he finally let her pull back.

“You know, this ‘distraction’ is a two-way street,” Regina breathed. “If you want to take your mind off of something...seek me out.” She placed a kiss against the corner of his mouth with a grin, “I don’t mind.”

When Robin opened his eyes and saw the Queen looking at him with a gentle smile, he wondered why he hadn’t sought her out in the first place. The worry for his friend William was still there, and it was not likely to go any time soon. But somehow, the Queen had a way of calming him, of soothing his rough edges until he could actually feel something other than unease or apprehension.

In a split second, Robin had taken the Queen’s head in his hands and had his lips crushed onto hers, pressing her into the opposite wall. Once she had gotten over the shock, Regina untucked Robin’s shirt and leisurely trailed her fingers across the skin she could reach, before grasping the waistband of his trousers and pulling his hips into hers. Teeth nipped at her lower lip and Regina let out a moan before taking his top lip between both of hers and gently sucking. And then it was Robin who was letting out a moan. Grabbing Regina’s thigh, he roughly hiked it up around his waist before he ground his hips into hers. Regina grasped his shoulders, holding on for fear of falling; the burn from lack of oxygen and the taste of his kiss made her head spin and her knees weak.

But she could not pull away. Part of the reason was both of his hands were back in her hair and showed no signs of releasing any time soon. The other part was that, whenever she even thought about pausing for breath, his teeth would cling onto her lips or his tongue would tangle with hers and any thoughts other than how good it felt disappeared. Besides, she didn’t really want to stop now, anyway.

And when Robin moved a hand from her hair and trailed it down her spine until he was cupping her backside, Regina had half a mind to cancel breakfast with the Charmings altogether and just lose herself in the outlaw.

Despite her wishes, Robin pulled away, and from the laboured heaving of his chest it was clear he was as out of breath as Regina was. Leaning his forehead against hers, he let go of her ass and Regina unhooked her leg from around his waist. She straightened out her cloak before fixing Robin’s shirt.

“I’m sorry about your friend.” Regina’s voice was so quiet Robin almost didn’t hear it, “Do they know what’s wrong with him?”

“It’s a very rare illness. We don’t know how he contracted it.” Robin went quiet for a few seconds before; “The healer gave him a few weeks at best.”

A few weeks? It was no wonder why Robin was not acting like himself. Knowing that your friend is dying and being unable to change it…it would make the best of men snap eventually. Regina searched her mind for anything that could possibly help besides… _this._ The only thing she could come up with was her magic, and there were numerous problems with that. Firstly, Robin had made his dislike of magic very public, and secondly, so had his Merry Men. Then of course there was the fact that healing magic had never been Regina’s forte, so she’d have to spend a short while in the library.

But if magic saved the life of a good man, then surely Robin and his men would accept it, and if there was a price to be paid then Regina would pay it herself. She had to do something other than _distract_ Robin, and this was her way of honouring her son’s memory; helping others.  She said with a sigh, “If you give me a couple of hours, then I’ll see what I can do.”

Robin’s face lit up, “You can save him?”

“I can try. I’m not making any promises,” said the Queen.

Robin placed a hand on her neck and stroked her cheek with his thumb. The intensity of his gaze took her breath away. It was a look that said he could love her and the mere thought had Regina lowering her eyes and worrying her lower lip with her teeth.

“I suppose I should apologise to Snow,” the outlaw said, his hand returning to the Queen’s hip.

“What about me?” asked Regina with faux innocence.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be punished accordingly,” Robin teased before he nipped the tip of her nose, causing her to lean back and laugh. Her features scrunched as she looked up at him; her smile made her look years younger. “Come on then, let’s go to breakfast. It would be nice to take a break for a short while.”

“Are you sure? You know Snow and Charming will have ‘endless optimism’ and that can be difficult when you have something like this to deal with,” said Regina.

Robin sighs, “Perhaps, but I owe her an apology.”

Regina placed a hand on his cheek, “You don’t owe anyone anything. You know what? I’ll make your excuses. Go on to your friend. I’ll join you later.”

Robin was a bit taken aback. “Are you sure?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m saving you from Snow’s continuous wave of questions, and this offer does expire. Take advantage of it.”

“Alright.” Robin tightened his hold on her, “But might I take advantage of _you_ later?”

Robin heard her mischievous laugh before she leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I’m counting on it.” She pulled back after a kiss to his jawline, “I’m not doing this out of the kindness of my heart.”

It was Robin’s turn to chuckle as he watched her leave to find the Charmings.

“Regina?” He called to her. She spun back around to face him. Robin smiled, “Thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure,” she drawled with a wink, and then walked away. His mood was somewhat lifted as he headed back to his son and his men, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

…

Regina searched for an hour and a half, sifting through every healing spell she could find, brushing up on her knowledge of the art of mending injuries. Rumple hadn’t taught her much on that particular subject. The thought of her wanting to heal anyone probably never even occurred to him. And he only taught what he thought she would need; the extent of her medicinal training was receiving a sword through the stomach and the choice to either heal herself or die.  For an illness such as this, it was doubtful that her one short lesson – however successful – would have been enough.

So, after a great deal of reading and a numbing headache, Regina asked around for the man’s location. She made her way to the chamber, where Robin and his men were looking after their friend.

Apparently his name was William Stutely, but other than the fact that he was severely ill and the healer had done all he could, Regina knew nothing.

Reaching the door to William’s chambers, the Queen lifted her hand and knocked, waiting patiently for one of the men inside to open the door. It was a dishevelled looking Friar Tuck who greeted her—if staring could be classified as a greeting—with crumpled clothing and a bottle in his hand. Taking a deep breath, Regina asked for entry, which he warily granted.

She had not taken four steps when she heard a man’s voice disdainfully ask, “What is _she_ doing here?”

Looking around at the group of men, it was not difficult to discern which one had spoken. He had black, slicked back hair and stood with a hand clutching the knife sheathed at his waist. He looked at the Queen with fury in his eyes, like he wanted nothing more than to slit her throat. Regina, though not scared, felt slightly uneasy when his grip on his dagger tightened. “Well?”

 “’ _She’_ is here to help.” Regina looked over to where William laid, unmoving. “Although, if none of you want me here, I’ll gladly leave.”

There was a second where the Merry Men contemplated what to do, sharing glances between themselves and the Queen.

“Regina,” said Robin’s voice. The whole team turned to see their leader entering with his son, looking slightly nervous at the Queen’s glare. “Your majesty,” he amended. “You made it.”

“Obviously,” the Queen muttered as she gestured to herself with her hands.

Robin picked up Roland and moved to sit down in the chair beside the bed. He beckoned her over, “Come on.”

“Wait, Robin,” interrupted Little John as he stepped in front of his leader, “what are you doing?”

“She can help,” Robin protested. “We’ve got to let her try, for Will.”

“Robin, she’s the Evil Queen,” argued John, “not a healer!”

Having had enough of the judgemental looks from Robin’s men,—while he himself tried to plead a case for her presence—Regina spoke up. “Whoever I may or may not be, the question you need to ask yourselves is this; would you rather let your friend die than accept my help? Because that is what it will come down to.”

Once again, the Merry Men looked between each other before a young lad stepped forward. He couldn’t have been more than twenty and his voice shook when he spoke. “You can heal him?” he asked hesitantly.

Regina tried to soften her gaze, “I can’t make any promises, but I can try if you’ll let me.”

“We’ll let you.” Another man stepped forward, a middle-aged man who—despite his rugged appearance—had kind eyes. “If it saves our Will, we’ll let you.”

The majority of men nodded, but the man with his hand on his dagger refused to show any sign of agreement. That is, until another man standing next to him nudged him sharply with his elbow. The bitter one rolled his eyes and scoffed but gave a curt nod before sitting back down. The man who had elbowed him looked at Regina and offered a genuine smile, something Regina was not used to receiving. The man himself seemed nice; there was no sign of his friend’s disdain in his green eyes and, despite his ill-fitting clothes, he was not unattractive.

Regina snapped back out of her reverie. What was it with her and admiring the Merry Men? First Robin, now this one…whoever he was. She needed to regain control of herself.

“Milady?” came Robin’s voice, “Are you coming?”

Taking one last glance around at the Merry Men, Regina walked toward the bed where the ill man resided and took a seat on the edge.

William had to have been the oldest of the Merry Men; he appeared to be around his mid to late fifties. But there was no doubt in Regina’s mind that he was not one to mess around with—when he was well, of course. But at the moment his short, silver hair was matted to his forehead, his skin was a deathly shade of yellow and sweat beaded along his hairline and upper lip.

Shifting to get slightly more comfortable, Regina placed her hands on the man’s chest, letting her magic flow freely to assess the damage.

It was a mess. Everything was wrong at once; his lungs were weak, his kidneys were failing, his heart was slowing and despite the man’s stubborn will to keep fighting—which Regina strongly admired—if left to his own devices, he would surely die. Possibly sooner than the two weeks predicted. He was quite fortunate that Regina had vowed to try and save him, even if her reasoning behind it was simply to make his leader smile again.

Closing her eyes, Regina focussed her energy into repairing the man’s body, imagining it healthy and fully functioning; the lungs fully inflating, the heart beating strongly, his muscles working without aching. Despite the warnings in her books—which described how healing magic used up a majority of the caster’s energy—Regina did not stop until she had restored everything she could, feeling the man’s life-force grow brighter every second.

When the Queen opened her eyes, the man in front of her was dramatically different; he looked like he could be merely sleeping, rather than like a dying man barely clinging onto life. There was colour in his cheeks, his chest was rising and falling without wheezing and his heart beat in a steady thumping rhythm that Regina could feel from where her hands rested on his torso.

Lifting her head to look at Robin she gave a tired smile before placing her hands in her lap and sitting upright. “He’ll be okay, give him a few days of rest and he’ll be right as rain.”

“Thank you.” Gratitude shone out of Robin’s eyes and if they were not surrounded by his Merry Men, Regina would have given in to the urge to kiss him. Instead, she simply smiled and stood, taking a moment to let the dizziness left over from the healing spell fade away, before she turned to everyone else in the room.

Robin’s Merry Men looked at Regina in a new light; she had saved their friend. Their dear William was going to live, and the Evil Queen hadn’t asked for anything in return for saving him. All eyes followed her as she left the room with a quick smile in the Merry Men’s direction, not caring who saw it or not.

She had done it. The Evil Queen had saved a life. With a slight sense of pride, Regina closed the door behind her as she left to return to her chambers. The door didn’t stay shut for long though, and there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her. Regina assumed they were Robin’s. When she turned around at the call of “your majesty”, she was surprised to find that it was, in fact, another man, the one who had smiled at her earlier.

“Hello,” he said, “the name’s George.”

Regina looked at him in slight confusion, her “hello” coming out as more of a question than a greeting.

 “About Dave,” George started, elaborating upon seeing her confused expression, “the fellow who was reluctant to let you help—he’s, well—“ he sighed lightly, rubbing his neck, “you had a price out for our heads for years, I suppose we all have a right to be a bit wary of you being near us.”

“You do,” Regina agreed. “However, you are in _my_ castle. You’re bound to run into me at some point.”

He stepped toward her in a way that vaguely reminded her of Robin. “Well, I don’t think I bump into you as often as I’d like to, your majesty.”

Regina let out a slight laugh, “Well, I don’t usually have a reason to be around here.”

“Perhaps you should find one,” said George with a wink.

The Queen spent a moment observing this strange man. Why was he being nice? People weren’t usually nice to her unless they wanted something, and even then it was obviously forced. But the way he smiled and ran a hand through his sandy blond hair, as if he was slightly nervous, seemed anything but fake.

“Regina, I just wanted to—” Robin’s voice trailed off as he saw the way his friend and Regina were looking at each other. His smile slowly dissipated as he addressed the other man. “George, Dave wanted to speak to you.”

“Oh, of course,” said George as he turned back to the Queen and took her left hand in his right, her eyebrows rising in surprise as he lifted the back of her hand to his lips. “Find a reason, your majesty.”

“I’ll look into it.” Regina’s gaze didn’t leave his until he’d disappeared into the other room and left the Queen and the outlaw alone.

When her attention turned back to Robin, Regina noticed the scowl on his face as he glared at the closed door before turning that same glare to her. “What?” she asked innocently.

Robin pointed to the door as he asked, “What’s going on between you two?”

Letting out a short laugh, Regina folded her arms. “Nothing,” she said.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” accused Robin.

“Well, he was only…” Regina paused as the reason behind the outlaw’s odd demeanour suddenly occurred to her. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” he denied immediately, “Why would I be jealous?”

 _He’s definitely jealous,_ Regina thought with a smile. “Why indeed? You know, we never said we’d be exclusive.”

“I know,” said Robin, putting his hands in his pockets, “But…honestly? George?”

The Queen gave him a curious look, “What’s wrong with George?”

“What’s right with him?” he countered.

“I haven’t found out,” she answered. Seeing Robin’s irritation at the situation, she couldn’t help but tease him a bit. “Yet.”

Robin ran his fingers through his hair in frustration and he turned away from her, groaning. Taking pity on him, Regina stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his middle, resting her chin on his shoulder. “You know,” she said, “if you wanted me all to yourself, you could have just told me.”

Turning in her arms, Robin looked at her as he stated without preamble, “I want you all to myself.” When Regina’s smile turned into a grin, Robin raised his hand to her cheek and trailed his thumb along her lower lip. “Mine,” he whispered.

Regina was firm in her reply; “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Robin smirked, leaning forward and stealing a kiss, repeating the word over and over, “mine”. Just as Regina went to kiss him again, they were knocked slightly off balance by a little boy crashing into their legs. They both chuckled before Robin bent down and scooped his son up into his arms.

“Papa!” the boy’s excitement left him unable to remain still, swinging his legs and putting both his hands on his father’s cheeks. “Papa! Will’s not asleep anymore.”

Noticing that the woman standing with his father was the Queen, Roland suddenly calmed down, muttering a shy hello and tucking his head in his father’s shoulder. Robin chuckled before turning back to Regina, thanking her.

“You’re welcome,” she said.

Robin turned back to his son. “Are you going to say thank you Roland? Her majesty is the one who saved Will.”

The little boy looked to Regina with wonder in his eyes, “You did?”

“Yes,” Regina nodded with a smile.

“With magic?” He turned to his father, who nodded. Roland’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “But you said magic was bad,” he whispered, as if he were trying to hide a secret. But Roland was not very skilled at whispering, and he said it loud enough for the Queen to hear.

Robin suddenly looked uncomfortable, his gaze falling to the floor at his son’s words. True as they were, magic had just saved Robin’s oldest friend, someone he grew up knowing, and that was a good thing. Maybe he should try to revise his opinion on the matter.

“Roland, magic itself isn’t bad,” Regina explained, “but sometimes the people using it want to do bad things.”

“Oh.” Roland looked to his father, then back to the Queen.

Regina gave the most reassuring smile she could muster. “The magic that saved your friend wasn’t bad, I promise.”

“Okay.” The adults looked between each other; they had forgotten how easily a child can accept new concepts. Roland turned to Regina, “Thank you for helping Will with good magic.”

“You’re welcome,” she said once again, with a laugh.

 She watched Roland place his hands back on his father’s cheeks. “Papa, can we see Will now?”

Watching Robin hoisting Roland higher and tickling his stomach until he giggled, Regina smiled at father and son before she decided that it was time to leave. She had only taken five steps before she heard Roland shout behind her, “Goodbye majesty!”

Turning back around, she gave Roland a little wave, “Goodbye Roland.”

Robin smiled, “I’ll see you later?” he asked.

Regina didn’t want to push anymore, so she made it clear that it was up to Robin when he would next see her. “Whenever you like.” 

She smiled at them both before she left, turning down the corridor, feeling decidedly light and content.

She didn’t hear Roland say “she’s pretty, Papa.”

Nor did she hear his father reply with “that she is, my boy, that she is.”

…

Two days later, Robin felt a lot happier; between his friend being up and about, his son being as happy and healthy as usual and finally making his way to see Regina again, he was practically humming as he strolled down the corridor on his way to the Queen’s chamber.

He didn’t need to walk very far; halfway there, he walked past a conference room and saw Regina standing at a table, thoroughly focussed on a few books. He watched her lift a hand over one of the pages, and when she slowly raised her hand whilst slightly waving her fingers there was a blue shimmer that turned into a translucent sheet between her hand and the paper. Regina observed her magic with a frown before closing her hand into a fist, the blue magic fizzling out, mixing with purple smoke.

After the healing of his friend and now this little display, Robin could now see the beauty of the Queen’s magic. Whilst he would never use it personally, he could admit that some was truly spectacular, much like the sorceress he was watching use it.

As Regina turned the page, Robin stepped over the threshold, checking that nobody else was in the room before sticking his head back out into the corridor to ensure that no one was there, either. Once he had fully entered, he closed the door by leaning on it, folding his arms and crossing one ankle over the other. He tilted his head and admired the Queen’s profile, imagining her slim figure with perfect curvature without her troublesome clothing, her long, toned legs wrapping around his waist and her dainty hands clawing at his back. His thoughts led to him taking stealthy footsteps until he was directly behind the Queen, and he could not stop himself from snaking his hands over her sides, to her front, until his arms were wrapped around her and he was nuzzling into her neck.

He felt her whole body tense and her head turn from one side to the other, looking for potential witnesses.

“We’re fine, your majesty,” Robin assured her, “it’s just us – I checked.”

As soon as she turned in his arms, Robin had his lips pressed to hers. With hands framing her face, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. The outlaw then moved forward until Regina was leaning back over the table and she sat up on the edge to escape a strained back. Robin pushed the books away so that they slid over to the opposite side of the table, and then continued to press forward until the Queen was reclining on her elbows to keep herself upright. Pulling away, Robin smirked as he unfastened the lacing at the front of Regina’s dress with sure movements.

“Here? Really?” Regina asked Robin, sounding more breathless than she would’ve liked as she wrapped her legs around his waist.

It was not the most secluded of places, the outlaw was either being incredibly stupid and trying to out them or he was so desperate for her that he couldn’t wait long enough to move them to a more private location. The Queen preferred the idea of the latter and, as much as she loathed admitting it, her thoughts were heading in the same direction as the thief’s.

“Why not?” He whispered into her neck. Regina let out a whimper as Robin bit at her collar bone and trailed a single finger along the new, plunging neckline he had just made. The Queen tensed, hiking up her thighs and digging a heel into his rear, bringing him even closer to her.

At that moment, the doors opened. In a matter of seconds and with the release of a sharp gasp, Regina scrambled off the table, put some distance between Robin and herself and turned to face the opposite wall, hoping to lace up her dress with a semblance of privacy.

“That’s why,” she ground out through gritted teeth. The Queen sent him a glare that would intimidate even the bravest of foes, but the outlaw merely smirked and chuckled. Regina found herself releasing a small laugh which brightened her face and, in Robin’s opinion, made her look stunning. If he could only ever accomplish one thing in his life, Robin wanted to make her laugh like that.

He stepped closer and spoke breathy words against her ear. “The next time we meet like this… I'm going to take you, all of you,” he said.

Regina’s breath caught in her throat, but she managed a mocking sneer of “promises, promises.”

Robin had the gall to act offended. “I’ll have you know that I am a man of my word, milady.”

Looking straight into his eyes, Regina responded with an evil smirk and said “You had better be, outlaw."

He leaned forward to whisper, "Oh, I am, your majesty." Robin pulled back when he saw the Queen biting her lower lip, "as I’m sure you'll enjoy finding out."

Mindful of their audience, the outlaw gave Regina a subtle wink and then left, the way he deliberately brushed up against her as he did so drew a sigh from her lips.

A movement in Regina’s peripheral vision made her small smile fade and she lifted her chin. The Queen looked to her right and saw David leaning on the edge of the table.

 _Typical_ , Regina thought, _if it’s not one Charming, it’s the other._

Or, in this case, both. Snow walked up to her husband and they both looked to Regina with unbridled joy in their eyes. How could they be so happy, given the current situation with Zelena?

 “What?” Regina snapped, her patience already wearing thin at the hopeful light in their eyes. She had seen that look before, every time the couple had received news of something hopeful. And whilst their hope may have been of service to them, it did not help Regina. If they discovered something that could assist her in her mission to stop her sister, she needed to know as soon as possible. If it could not aid her, she couldn’t care less; hopeful Charmings were insufferable Charmings.

And if she had to endure one more “just have hope, Regina”, she could not be held responsible for muting them, permanently.

Charming wrapped an arm around his wife’s waist, his smile wide and lighting his whole face. Regina wondered what the hell had changed between them, what had the pair acting like they were on their honeymoon again. If they started giving each other longing looks, or anything remotely lovey-dovey, she was leaving.

Snow looked to her other half, took a deep breath and announced, “I’m pregnant.”

Well, Regina certainly hadn’t seen that coming.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with me guys, I know the updates aren't as regular as I'd like but due to unforeseen events for both me and my beta it's taken a little while for this chapter to get sorted. I hope you can accept this chapter as a sincere apology from me :)  
> I'm still a bit nervous about publishing stuff like this (I usually stick to writing teen-rated fics :S) so any hints or tips would be appreciated if something was not quite right :)  
> Anyways, enjoy :D  
> xXx

Watching Roland play was one of Robin’s favourite past-times. The boy’s imagination was astounding; to him, a lump of clay could be a castle or a wooden twig could be a horse. The four year old had the ability to turn anything into anything – and look adorable whilst doing it.

Of course, castle rooms had more potential animals and buildings that the little boy knew what to do with. Roland sat on the floor amidst piles of boxes, small books and odd things he had found amongst the drawers. Roland stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth in concentration as he tried to decide what to play with next.

Robin looked at his son with a smile, pulling himself off of the edge of his bed to help Roland with whatever scenario his boy was acting out. But the sound of several loud knocks in rapid succession echoed throughout the room and Robin looked over his shoulder to the door.

He walked over with a small smile, expecting Regina; the thief had made it quite clear to her that the next time they met would not be a short confrontation, and the Queen hadn’t seemed adverse to the idea. But to Robin’s dismay, he was not greeted by dark hair, brown eyes and soft curves at the door. Rather, it was Little John, followed closely behind by Will Stutely. They both appeared quite serious and Robin felt a seed of worry plant itself in the pit of his stomach.

Will did nothing to settle Robin’s uneasiness by asking Roland to play elsewhere with Little John, claiming that he needed to speak with the boy’s father in private.

Roland agreed readily, throwing pinecones and twigs into a small brown box and scurrying out of the room, his little hands gripping it tightly to keep the box from falling from his grasp. Little John gave Will a nod and then left, calling out for Roland to wait for him. The elder man stepped through the doorway and shut the door behind him.

And without warning, he smacked Robin upside the head. “What were you thinking son?” asked Will incredulously.

The outlaw frowned, rubbing the back of his neck, confused. “What?”

“I was growing tired of you deflecting my questions with vague answers every time I asked you what happened to me. So I asked the Men. They didn’t think you’d tell me everything so they informed me themselves,” said Will as he delivered another slap him upside Robin’s head again. “Magic, son? That was what you resorted to?”

“Will—” he started to explain.

“No,” Will’s sharp tone stopped the outlaw in his tracks. “Robin, whatever happened to your ideals? ‘All magic comes with a price’, that’s what you would always say. You were livid when Scarlet stole magic from Maleficent. And now you’re cavorting with the Evil Queen?”

“Will, she’s—” Robin began.

“She’s what?”

Robin bit his tongue. How was he to voice his opinion without sounding like a madman? Regina was not evil, but saying that the Evil Queen was good? It would most likely get him nothing but another slap upside the head. Regina was far more than what everyone thought her to be, of this Robin was certain. They hadn’t seen what he had; the beautiful parts of her that she kept hidden behind walls so tall very few were able to get past. If other people could see that, they would treat her a lot differently.

Will softened his tone to the one he used to use to gently scold the outlaw as a child. “Robin, lad, she tried to kill us. She put a bounty on our heads, ordered her Black Knights to bring us to her dead or alive. And you asked her to save me?”

“I didn’t ask her,” Robin replied. “She offered.”

“Oh, yes, I suppose that makes everything alright, then.” Sarcasm practically dripped from Will’s words. “Robin, she slaughtered whole villages, she ruined lives and she spent _years_ of her life trying to destroy Snow White.”

Robin sighed. “I know. I know that she did. But now she’s fighting _with_ Snow—fighting for _us_ —she’s making amends and trying to be a better person. She healed you, a stranger, because she wanted to. That’s a far cry from being a mass murderer don’t you think?”

“She’s the Evil Queen, Robin. I don’t trust her,” argued Will.

Robin’s response was immediate, “Then trust me.”

Will paused, contemplating the reasons why his leader might be defending the Evil Queen so adamantly. The man did not like what he was coming up with. “What’s going on Robin?”

 “Nothing,” Robin replied, shaking his head.

“Robin,” Will warned, “As your father’s steward I watched you grow up. I know when you’re lying to me. What’s going on?”

Robin felt slightly nervous at his friend’s stare. “It’s nothing,” he protested with his eyes averted to the ground.

“’Nothing’ is no valid explanation for why you’re defending the Evil Queen like this.” Will folded his arms in front of his dark green shirt. “What happened between the two of you?”

Taking a few seconds to breathe in and out, Robin considered the best way to get Will to understand his way of thinking. Obviously, their whole ‘distraction’ agreement wouldn’t be mentioned, but if there was a way that he could explain that Regina was more than just the Queen, or the Evil Queen at that, then perhaps Will wouldn’t be so quick to judge her.

“I’ve seen the woman behind the mask, Will.” Robin started. “I’ve seen Regina. And she’s not… the monster everyone makes her out to be. She’s much more than that, and she’s trying so hard to be a better person but no one will give her a chance.”

Will looked sceptical, “And that’s what you’re doing? Giving her a chance?”

“Yes,” Robin replied with a nod of his head and a reassuring smile, aiming to at least placate his friend a little.

It didn’t work. “Watch what you’re doing, son,” warned Will.

“Will—”

“I understand that you want to help people, but some are simply beyond saving Robin.” Will brought both his hands up and placed them on his friend’s shoulders. “You can’t fix everyone, my boy.”

Robin’s immediate thoughts were that he _could_ fix Regina… but then he realised that she didn’t need him to; she was doing it by herself. She was making her own efforts to help others, and it was she who had the strength to become the person she wanted to be. And he would be there by her side, should she ever need him.

“Perhaps, but I want to try to help her, at the least,” he said.

Will’s grasp on Robin’s shoulders tightened, “Don’t let yourself get swept up by her, Robin. Anyone with eyes can see she’s a beautiful woman. But she’s dangerous, very dangerous, and we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I won’t,” said Robin.

It was not a promise; the outlaw wouldn’t promise things that were beyond his control, but he would make a conscious effort to not get in too deep, regardless of whether it would be effective or not.

Seeing that his words were not going to get him anywhere with his stubborn leader, Will stood to leave, making his way to the door. He stopped when he had a grasp on the handle. “The next time you see her majesty,” he said to Robin over his shoulder, “thank her for me.” Robin looked up in mild shock “I may not like the woman but she did save my life. I owe her thanks,” continued Will.

“Yes, of course,” Robin replied with a nod of his head, watching the door as it drifted shut. The sound of a click signalled that he was alone with his thoughts.

…

Those thoughts plagued him for the majority of his day and did not stop when night fell. A number of scenarios and doubts began creeping into Robin’s head; was it possible that the nature of Will’s visit was only to scold him against using magic? Or had he been sent by the rest of the Merry Men to supply Robin with an intervention of sorts? Little John had accompanied Will initially, and both of them—and the rest of his men—had been acting somewhat out of sorts. Robin knew that striking an alliance with the Queen would not have been his men’s first choice, but she _had_ saved Will. And for that, they all owed her, regardless of their feelings toward her.

If his men had a problem with him spending time with Regina they could talk to Robin directly. But until then, he would continue to seek out the Queen unless there was reason for him not to. And if he was being true to himself, the outlaw couldn’t think of anything that could classify as valid reason. There was just something about Regina that made any moment he had with her time well spent. Something that kept her in Robin’s every waking – and non-waking – thought, whether she was with him or not.

After Regina had saved Will, two days had passed before Robin had the opportunity to find her again. The outlaw had spent this time helping his friend get up on his feet, but Robin’s fingers had itched to hold Regina again, and he had worked himself up into such a frenzy that he simply needed to have her and he didn’t care where. That was the moment when he had caught sight of the Queen in one of the many rooms, promptly placing his hands and lips on her before he could burst into flames from unbridled lust.

But, of course, they were interrupted again, which seemed to have become somewhat of a reoccurrence for them. He swore next time he would have her, and he would. This almost-but-never-quite-having-her nearly drove Robin to madness, and if he was denied his wishes once more he would most likely snap and tumble off the edge of insanity without a care.

Upon realising that he wouldn’t get any sleep whilst his thoughts remained on Regina, Robin called upon his old habit of taking comfort from the outdoors and walked over to his window to take in the beautiful scenery beneath him.

The moon washed the gardens with a silver glow and the dewy grass glittered as it rippled with every caress of the wind. The deep forests that he knew surrounded the grounds were a mere outline under the night time cover, as was the shrubbery that lined a few of the pathways for those who enjoyed nature to take a restful stroll when they so desired.

A few of those walkways curved towards a stunning water feature; a horse rearing on its hind legs formed the centrepiece at the very top, the water flowed down to the second tier, then the third, then the fourth, before it cascaded into the pool contained by a knee high wall intricately carved with vines and leaves.

Robin had to admit it; for a castle that looked as foreboding as it did magnificent, the gardens were quite breath-taking.

After a few moments, when his thoughts were somewhat under control, Robin turned back to his bed. But he couldn’t resist one more look at the grounds, finding comfort in the peaceful tranquillity the night offered. And as he spotted a figure making its way away from the castle, travelling at a leisurely pace along the paved pathways with no clear destination in mind, he realised the habit of going outdoors was perhaps more common than he had realised.

He had fully intended to try and get some sleep and leave the stranger to some peace, but then Robin saw the light reflecting off of jewels, he heard the faint clicking sound of heels and he felt his heart pick up speed as he realised it was not any stranger, but the Queen.

Well, that was typical of cruel irony; Robin was trying to get her off of his mind, and there she was. Apparently, fate and the thief were not friends. And now he was faced with a decision; go back to bed and leave Regina be, or walk outside to see what had her wandering her gardens in the middle of the night.

The decision was not a difficult one to make.

A few minutes later, Robin closed the large castle doors behind him, taking a deep breath and enjoying the cool crispness of the midnight air. His eyes scoured the grounds for Regina, looking out for the silhouette of her figure on any one of the paths. His gaze fell to the fountain; she sat on the wall surrounding the water feature with her back to him, the Queen had her head bowed and seemed somewhat resigned in comparison to her usual, bold self.

 “Your majesty?” Robin asked tentatively as he approached, speaking softly to avoid startling her.

It apparently wasn’t quietly enough; his voice broke Regina out of her deep thoughts and she jumped with a start. Regina turned to glare at the outlaw, no doubt annoyed with him for disturbing her peace. “What are you doing here, thief?” she asked, irritated.

Robin had a feeling that admitting to checking on her wellbeing would not have been the right thing to say, so he settled for; “I couldn’t sleep.”

The Queen replied with a mere nod of her head, attempting to end the conversation before it even began.

Robin had not come to give up that easily, though. “Milady, are you alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” snapped Regina with a frustrated sigh.

“Are you certain?” Robin prodded in a tone that clearly said, _I know you’re lying._

Regina gave him a glare. “There’s a lot going on. I just came out here to try to clear my head.”

“I understand,” said Robin with a nod, “You know, most people find it easier to let go of their troubles by talking it out with someone.”

She scoffed. “I’m not most people.”

That she wasn’t. Most people would not have him hurriedly rushing outside in the middle of the night to spend some time with them. Most people did not have him planning his every word because he wanted to see their smile, and most people did not make his heartbeat stutter whenever they were near. No, Regina was definitely not “most people”.

“Well, should you change your mind, I’ll be right here.” Robin sat down to her right; their bodies were not quite touching, but his hand grasped the stone edge of the fountain wall a mere hair’s breadth away from hers.

After a few seconds, he turned to look at her and his breath caught in his throat. Random strands of dark hair had fallen loose and floated in the breeze, her eyes travelled so that she was looking in every direction except for his, and every so often her lips would press together and she’d inhale through her nose, releasing her breath in a quiet sigh. The moonlight softened her features in a way that made her seem much younger and more peaceful than the woman he had come to know as the Queen.

And when he could not tear his gaze away, he realised that he desired to spend more time with her like this, when everything was peaceful and she wasn’t hurling insults or threats.

Regina ignored Robin’s gaze, continuing in her earlier thoughts as if the thief wasn’t even there. Nevertheless, Regina was still comforted by his presence and the slight warmth along the side of her hand where it nearly touched his.

For a few glorious moments, there was no noise other than the sounds of the water splashing and the occasional distant call from an animal prowling the grounds. Robin was reminded again of why he loved the outdoors so much; the serenity and beauty of it. The outlaw closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, then released the breath and relaxed his muscles with a small smile.

Regina was not relaxed; there were still many things running through her mind that she could not seem to work out. Nothing that she’d done helped; she had tried reading in the library to focus, she had tried walking the corridors of her castle aimlessly, she had only resorted to walking the grounds because she’d recalled how comforting the outdoors were to her when she was younger. The fresh smell and vast, open space gave her a sense of freedom—made her family residence seem less like a prison cell and more like the home it was supposed to feel like. Although, that was when she had her father and Daniel. And now her Henry was lost. The only person in the Enchanted Forest that she could possibly talk to was herself, and that was part of the problem.

Whilst she and the thief had been growing closer, she wasn’t going to suddenly start opening up to him. He was only there to distract her, to take her mind off things in ways that didn’t involve talking.

The Queen’s thoughts were interrupted by Robin’s hand tentatively moving from beside hers to rest on top, entwining their fingers. The action was a simple one, and yet he could have proclaimed undying love for the way Regina’s heart swelled and her eyes blinked back sudden moisture. The feeling of being cared for was not a common occurrence for the Evil Queen, and it made somewhat of a dent in her steel façade.

The thief had probably come outside in the middle of the night to check up on her—what with him being an honourable thief—whether he had difficulty sleeping or not. And yet he sat there, waiting patiently for her to say something, anything.

So, taking a large breath and a larger risk, Regina started talking.

“Years ago, I did nothing but cause pain and suffering for my kingdom. I enjoyed walking among my people and seeing them cower in fear. And now I’m doing everything I can to protect them from the Wicked Witch of the West—who is also my half-sister.”

Robin recognised the guilt in her tone, “Being her sister does not make you responsible for her actions,” He consoled.

“But it does,” Regina insisted, “she’s my family; my only family. And a few years ago, it was me in her position. I sought revenge, I destroyed, I tortured and I wanted nothing more than to kill all who had wronged me. But then I got a second chance. That was all I needed,” a sad smile appeared on Regina’s lips, “someone to believe in me.”

Robin nodded his head in understanding, “Your son.”

“It’s because of him that I haven’t killed anyone yet,” Regina let out a wry laugh when the thief’s eyes widened, “I think people antagonise me on purpose, testing to see how far they can push me before I snap and go on a homicidal rampage. But I won’t do that; I couldn’t do that, to Henry or to myself. I’ve come too far to go back to that now. Henry gave me a second chance, and that’s what Zelena needs; a reason to try and climb out of the darkness. What better reason than family?”

Robin couldn’t find any words to say, so he tightened his hold on Regina’s hand. Without thinking, she tightened her hold on his in return.

“Speaking of family,” Regina scoffed, “Snow’s pregnant.”

“Oh,” exclaimed the outlaw in surprise, “Give her my congratulations.”

Regina stared straight ahead, evidently not sharing his enthusiasm as she replied, “I will.”

“Pardon my saying so, but you don’t look particularly pleased with this news. I know you and the princess are not the best of friends, but this is _good_.”

“For her, yes,” agreed the Queen, “But for me? It’s just another person that I have to protect.”

Robin stroked his thumb over the hand he held in his grasp. “From what I’ve heard, Snow White and her prince are perfectly capable adults; you don’t have to take care of their child for them.”

“Yes, I do. After what I did to their last child…” Regina trailed off, but Robin understood what she was saying. “This one is not growing up without their parents,” she promised, facing forward with steely determination in her eyes.

The fierce protectiveness Regina showed for her former arch-nemesis took Robin’s breath away. Though she may not have many people that she could trust, the thief is sure that when Regina cares, she cares deeper than anyone else. And he knew that it must feel like walking in the sunlight, fighting with Regina on your side. Robin just hoped that, someday, he would be close enough to bask in her rays.

Removing his hand from hers, Robin slid his arm around her; his thumb stroked soothing patterns on her shoulder as he kissed her temple. “You do not have to go through any of this alone, you know. If you need someone to help with plans and strategies, I’m there. If you need an archer or a thief, I’m there. And bloody hell, if you need someone to throw insults and murderous threats at, I’m there,” he said to her assuredly. Regina chuckled. “Tell me what you need, Regina, and you’ll have it.”

The Queen let out a sigh, “I need to think about something else for a while.”

When she looked up at him, she knew there was a hint of vulnerability in her eyes that she could not mask. Regina heard her mother’s voice resonating in the back of her mind.

_Never be vulnerable in front of others, dear; they’ll use it against you. They’ll think you’re weak._

No, she would not let Robin think of her as weak. So she leaned forward and kissed him, a hand travelling to his neck as she shifted toward him. Robin stood without detaching his lips from hers, snaking his arms around her and pulling her closer until there was no space between them.

Nipping at her bottom lip, Robin pulled away and leaned back. He hadn’t gotten past a breathy moan of “Regina,” before she had reclaimed his mouth with hers. It appeared that the Queen was not quite ready to let the thief speak yet, and—if he was being completely honest with himself—the thief didn’t mind the lack of conversation, either. Not when Regina grabbed his shirt at the waist and pulled him even closer to her, tilting her head and trailing her tongue along his top lip before stroking it along his own when he allowed the kiss to deepen.

Robin reached up and removed the pins from Regina’s hair, letting it cascade down her back in loose waves before he tangled his fingers in the soft strands. He kissed her fiercely for a long moment with as much passion as he was given.

It was a few seconds after they had parted when Regina opened her eyes, but once she did she saw Robin lick and bite his lips, and her brain short-circuited. She ran a hand down his arm and grabbed his hand. She then pulled away, tugging him behind her toward the castle doors and leaving him no choice but to follow after her.

They made it about halfway down the path before Robin stopped and tugged Regina back to him, winding his hands in her hair and pressing his lips to hers, pressing her backwards along the route he had assumed that she was taking them.

With a short laugh, Regina gently pushed him away and turned back around, setting off in the direction of the castle entrance again. But Robin wrapped his arms around her once more and his lips latched onto her neck—and every thought in Regina’s head became muddled. She glanced at the castle doors that she had been aiming for and glanced upward to where she knew her chambers were. Suddenly, the journey there seemed like an impossible feat. There was no way they would make it all the way up the steps if Robin continued nipping and sucking at her neck as if doing just that was his only purpose in life. If the thief stopped long enough for her to concentrate, she could probably use her magic to teleport them both up to her room without an issue. But her thoughts were scattered; she could think of nothing other than the feel of his lips, tongue and teeth, no doubt creating pink patterns on her neck and shoulders.

Regina turned and grabbed the thief’s wrist, taking a few steps backward while still holding his gaze. She pulled them over to a dark corner below a balcony not twenty steps away, shielding them from light and any person who might have been looking out their window at this ridiculous time of night.

For a woman so much smaller than him, Regina certainly had a lot of strength behind her. Robin practically tripped over his own feet when he was turned and pressed against the wall. He barely had time to breathe before she had commandeered his lips once again, giving him a mind-blowing kiss with her tongue exploring every crevice of his mouth and her hands travelling all over him, running from his torso to his shoulders, his neck, his hair, his cheeks.

As soon as Robin gripped Regina’s waist, petite hands made haste unfastening his shirt. She had made it halfway down before she tore the rest apart impatiently. Regina tried to pull Robin forward, off of the wall, so there was enough room to remove his shirt, but he had wrapped his arms around her and he refused to loosen his hold even slightly. In fact, he only tightened it, pulling her to him and then leaning back a bit until her toes could barely touch the floor if she really tried. Taking a few steps away from the wall, Robin spun them so the Queen was the one trapped between his body and the hard surface. Drawing her legs up around his waist, Regina leveraged herself higher so that the thief had to tilt his chin up to keep their mouths connected.

When Regina’s back collided with the wall, it was with enough force that the back of her head thumped against the bricks. Although, the ache in her skull quickly faded when Robin unfastened the tight bodice on her gown and pulled the fabric down, palming her breasts. He leisurely trailed circles on her flushed skin with his fingers before he lightly scraped over her nipples, drawing a breathy moan from Regina as she finally managed to push his shirt off of him to grip his shoulders.

As the need for breath became overpowering, Robin released the Queen’s lips and attacked a spot behind her ear, before dragging his teeth down her neck and then lower, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses across her clavicle. He continued downward until he reached the valley between her breasts. Regina’s hand flew to Robin’s head and tightly grasped a handful of his hair, drawing a hiss from the thief as he drew his head back. The path of wetness that he had created glistened under the moonlight.

Feeling too much and yet not enough, Regina grabbed one of his hands and moved it until it was under her skirt, tilting her head back. “Distract me, outlaw,” she whispered to him breathlessly.

"My pleasure, your majesty," he replied with a low chuckle into her chest.

As he moved the hand she had placed between her legs, he swallowed her moans, and when her hands fervently pushed down his trousers before stroking hard and heated flesh, she swallowed his.

From the direction that the situation was headed, Robin knew he could not last long, and although the Queen had made it quite clear that she was eager and not in the mood for longevity, he would not disappoint her by ending this too quickly. When he removed his hand from inside her, Regina whimpered in disappointment. But then she felt his hand wrap around the one she had around him as he lined himself up with her, and all her disappointment faded away, replaced by anticipation.

For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of harsh breathing until Robin heard the Queen speak, “Are you waiting for a written invitation, outl—”

Regina didn't get to finish her attempt at goading him. He thrust into her with such force that she was left out of breath, her snide remarks and thoughts gone in one swift movement. Then he placed a hand under her backside so that he held her full weight, he withdrew almost fully before he slammed back into her, and she could do nothing but moan and desperately claw at the wall behind her. “Oh, God…” she groaned.

"’Robin’ will do just fine, your majesty," he snickered against her cheek as he set up a steady rhythm that sent her heart racing.

Apparently—unlike the Queen—the thief had no trouble completing sentences. Feeling the need to be on more equal ground, Regina pushed her hips off the wall to change the angle he was thrusting at to a deeper one, and then clenched around him. The resulting groan and his strained "your majesty" made her grin, and the scrapes she was developing on the flesh of her shoulders were completely worth it.

"Regina," she said, sounding breathless.

With Robin's thoughts now an incoherent jumble, he did not understand what the Queen meant. "What?" he asked.

"When we're like this," she paused as he shifted her up the wall, "I’m just ‘Regina’, never ‘your majesty’."

“And what if you _wish_ for me to call you ‘your majesty’?” Robin asked with a sly smile.

“We’ll address that if we come to it,” Regina stated. She moved her mouth to his ear and gritted, “Now stop talking and fuck me.”

He resumed thrusting into her, breathing “Regina” into her neck. She interlocked her ankles against the small of his back, forcing him deeper and it took all his strength to keep himself standing upright. "My god!" he grunted into her neck.

"Robin—" Whatever the Queen had intended to say was caught in her throat, the change of depth meant that he was hitting a sweet spot with every movement of his hips.

When the Queen had left her room not thirty minutes before, fucking Robin against an outside wall had not been an event she had pictured her night leading to.

Nevertheless, she wasn’t complaining; she had to admit, for a common thief he seemed perfectly capable of reducing her to a quivering mess—if their past encounter in the library and their current engagement against this wall were anything to go by. 

God help her if they ever actually got into a bed.

Afraid the scream she so desperately wanted to release would wake those sleeping a few stories above them, Regina bit into Robin’s shoulder. _Hard._ The outlaw let out a growl as he kneaded her rear and thrusted into her more forcefully.

Regina clawed at his back, hands slipping on the fine sheen of sweat that coated his skin. She lifted her head from his shoulder until her mouth was right by his ear, subconsciously inhaling and exhaling in time with his thrusts before—in the sexiest voice Robin had ever heard—she whispered, “Take me harder.”

Robin’s movements faltered at her words and it took him a few seconds to recover before he complied with her orders. After all… she was his Queen.

The faster pace and harder thrusts made both Regina and Robin gasp for air. But nevertheless, they still met each other halfway for a bruising kiss, Regina’s arms wrapped around Robin’s neck to hold on to him and he wound his arms under her thighs to keep her from slipping.

Breaking apart and growling into her ear, Robin pulled Regina’s hips to meet his, burying himself in her to the hilt time and time again. The Queen practically yelped, her moans became higher pitched as she felt herself climb unbearably high towards the edge.

Robin himself wasn’t faring any better; the coil within him tightened to the point that he could snap at any second. Reaching a hand back around to Regina’s front, he brushed his thumb against her clit once, twice, before he felt her spine arch against him and her whole body tightened. The repeated moans of his name and profanities that escaped her had Robin falling over the edge too. He dropped his head to the Queen’s shoulder with a groan as he tried to remain standing on his quivering legs.

It was a short while before they heard anything other than the sounds of nature and their harsh breathing. Regina lowered her legs and leaned completely against the wall, the dull ache of bruises and scrapes signalled the marks that she would no doubt be tending to later.

Of course, the lull didn’t last long as the insufferable thief mumbled, "I told you you'd enjoy it," into Regina’s neck.

It was a few moments before Regina’s brain could function enough to recall the conversation they’d had that the outlaw was referring to.

A man of his word, indeed.

It vaguely occurred to the Queen that they should set some boundaries; as fantastic as being taken against the wall had been, it would not do to make public sex a constant. Because if word of this got out, either Regina would never hear the end of it, or Robin would lose the respect of many. And Regina would not let herself ruin Robin’s reputation.

The Queen promised herself that she would bring the topic up next time. There would be a next time; she promised that too.

And just like the outlaw, Regina always kept her word.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, well thank you for bearing with me on this. I am honestly trying to update quicker :)  
> Anyway, please comment or whatever to let me know what you think :D And thank you for reading  
> Also, I'm trying to practise fanart again so if you've got a favourite scene from this fic let me know and I'll try and draw it (not promising how good it will be though)  
> xXx

With each of his hands encased in larger ones, a small frown on his face and a rumbling stomach, a despondent little Roland made his way to breakfast with his feet dragging along the polished floor. This was a vastly different routine from his usual enthusiastic bounding through the halls, with whomever had been selected as his escort following behind him. Will Stutely and Friar Tuck shared worried glances as their friend’s son appeared to slow down and his gaze dropped to the floor.

The next second, Roland’s hands fell from the adults’ grasp and he stopped completely.

Will knelt down before the child, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Roland?”

“What is it, my boy?” Friar Tuck asked, as he also bent down.

Roland’s gaze flickered up to the two men before him and then focussed on a point behind them. “Majesty,” said Roland excitedly.

“What?” asked the men simultaneously.

“Majesty!” Roland shot off, running down the corridor toward what Will and Friar Tuck had now noticed to be the Queen, making her way ahead of them.

Regina hadn’t had a chance to turn around before Roland had run past her and come to a stop directly in front of her path, bringing the Queen to a grinding halt.

“Roland?”

The little boy pressed his lips together and looked everywhere but at the Queen, interlocking his hands behind his back in a sudden display of nervousness.

Regina tilted her head. “Roland?” she tried again, bending to her knees when he still refused to look at her.

“Daddy got hurt,” Roland confessed after a moment, his voice quivering as his gaze remained on the floor.

“What?” asked Regina in surprise. Robin got hurt?What had the idiot done now?  

Friar Tuck and Will walked over to them. As soon as Regina knew the two were in earshot, she asked, “What happened?”

Will was the one to answer her. “There was a fight in the early hours of the morning, your majesty,” he explained. “Robin played hero and got a few injuries in return.”

 _I am going to kill him,_ Regina thought as her fists clenched in the skirts that billowed around her knees.   _I’ll heal him until he’s in perfect physical condition…and then kill him._

“Is he okay?” asked Regina, putting every ounce of her energy into appearing unconcerned, hoping to make the two men think she was asking out of mere regal duty. And whilst Friar Tuck bought the act and rolled his eyes, Will regarded the Queen with a pensive glance.

“He’s fine. A sprained wrist and a few cuts and bruises here and there, but he’ll live,” assured Will, watching the Queen let out a small sigh of relief—well hidden from Friar Tuck, but not from him.

Will saw. He saw Regina release her relieved exhale and unclench her fists and he even saw a small smile tug at her lips. He saw how she actually cared, at least somewhat, even if she pretended not to.

A tugging on her sleeve brought Regina’s attention to the little boy in front of her. “Can you make daddy’s hurts go away, majesty?” pleaded Roland.

Regina heard a disapproving sigh from behind her, but she didn’t need to turn around to see who it was; Friar Tuck’s voice soon reached her ears. “Your father’s injuries will heal perfectly well in time, Roland. We don’t need the Evil Queen to help us.”

A flash of hurt crossed Regina’s face as her eyes flickered away from the boy and toward the ground, her rigid posture faltering in a way that Will would have missed, had he not been observing her every reaction, trying to put some puzzle pieces into place. The pained look wasn’t there for long, however, and by the time she had looked back up to meet Roland’s eyes she had plastered a reassuring smile on her face, her mask firmly in place. “Friar Tuck is right. Your father will be just fine without me.”

When Regina lifted her hand and lightly tickled under Roland’s chin, bringing a smile and a giggle from the boy as he twisted and tucked his head down to prevent further attack, Will felt a small smile tugging at his lips. He couldn’t help it; it was well known the little lad’s laughter was contagious. And from the way the Queen’s face lit up, she had just learned it too.

Seeing the Queen rock back onto her heels and prepare to stand, Will stepped forward and offered her his hand. With her gaze flicking warily from the proffered hand to its owner’s face, it took Regina a few seconds before she allowed the older man help her to her feet, and her reluctance faded somewhat at the warm smile upon his weathered features.

Friar Tuck glanced between Will and the Evil Queen, consternation on his face upon seeing his friend’s display of kindness toward Regina, and likewise everything the Merry Men stood against.

“Thank you,” Regina said as she brushed away creases in her deep purple dress, the dark fabric swishing around her feet as she righted herself.

“Thank _you_ , your majesty,” said Will, “I’ll let Robin know you offered to help.”

“There’s no need,” assured the Queen.

“Yes there is,” Will protested. “You offered to help. I shall let Robin and the rest of his men know; it’s the honourable thing to do.”

With a small smile, Regina stepped to the side and walked past Roland, her hand ruffling his hair for a second before she continued her path down the hallway. She was soon stopped by Roland, running to stand in front of her again—despite Friar Tuck’s huff of displeasure.

“Can you sit with us for breakfast?” asked Roland. Regina immediately opened her mouth to refuse, but Roland stared up at her with wide, innocent eyes that reminded her too much of Henry when he was her little boy. “Please?” he added, politely.

Friar Tuck moved to step forward but Will stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Will, she’s—”

Will silenced him, “Just…give them a moment.”

They both watched as the Queen gracefully bent down to her knees once more, placing both her hands in her lap. Quieting her voice and soothing her tone, she informed Roland that she “had some business she had discuss with the knights”. Roland’s expression fell and his gaze dropped to the floor, but Regina reached out and lifted his chin so that he was looking at her again, unable to let the little lad remain upset. “But, if it’s alright with your father, I might, perhaps come and see you some other time?”

Roland’s features brightened and he practically bounced on the balls of his feet. “Really?” he asked excitedly.

“Really,” she promised with a smile. Regina tilted her head. “Is that okay?”

His answer was an enthusiastic shout of “yes” before he lunged forward and wrapped his arms around the Queen’s neck, forcing her to outstretch a hand behind her on the floor for balance. Chuckling, Regina wrapped her other arm around the boy and pushed herself upright.

Friar Tuck frowned, obviously displeased at the little boy’s affection towards the Evil Queen.

Will Stutely, however, watched the scene with a smile.

This was not the Evil Queen he had heard stories about. That Evil Queen would not be seen dead kneeling before another. That Evil Queen would not be seen as being anything other than hostile towards thieves and outlaws. And that Evil Queen would never be seen wrapping up a little boy—whom was not even her own—in her arms with a joyous laugh.

Will didn’t see the Evil Queen before him. He saw what Robin did; he saw Regina. And now he could see a part of her worth fighting for.

…

Two hours passed before Regina finally left her knights in the war council chamber. Their new guarding duties were laid before them with rigid structure, once they had been given the choice to either obey or leave; a short incident concerning loyalty and betrayal forced a few strong changes to be made. Surprisingly, a majority of the knights had stayed; for Queen Regina or the Charmings—though the latter was most likely—they were prepared to follow all orders from royalty, and protect those in the castle by any means necessary.

Of course now they had seven fewer guards than they had started with and their numbers were already much smaller than the army the Evil Queen had originally built. Many of those who had served under the Queen disappeared in fear that the old methods that had been employed to keep them in line might continue under the new reign.

With her gaze on the floor, Regina was distracted and did not see the person turning the corner until it was too late and she had collided with them, the force knocking her back several steps.

“Watch where you’re going!” she snapped before she even looked up.

But when she did raise her eyes toward the other person and she saw Robin grimacing, his breath caught in his throat and his eyes scrunched closed, she regretted her outburst.

“I didn’t see you,” Regina said softly. That was as close to an apology as she would give him.

Regina reached out and trailed the tips of her fingers along the hardened bandages that were wrapped around his arm. The pitiful extent of the Enchanted Forest’s medical supplies meant that the thief’s left arm was encased in poultice from mid-forearm to the palm of his hand. The cut above his eyebrow had gauze over it, but the other smaller ones had just been cleaned and left to the air.

Slowly shaking her head, the Queen raised her hand to his cheek, careful not to touch any open cuts. Regina stroked her thumb along Robin’s bruised cheekbone before trailing it down to his busted lip.

“Are you feeling alright?” she asked.

His reply was the general, “I’m fine.”

But Regina had used those words enough times in her life to know that they were a lie meant to placate others. And “fine” wasn’t a feeling.

Regina leaned up and gently pressed her lips to his. Despite Friar Tuck’s--and probably the rest of the Merry Men’s—reluctance in letting her heal Robin, she could not refuse at least a bit of magic flowing to him to ease his injuries.

When they parted, the wound on his lip was gone. And as Robin took a deep breath in and released it as a sigh, he realised that most of his pain had disappeared along with it.

“Thank you,” the thief groaned.

“I would do more, but…” Regina trailed off.

“My men,” Robin finished for her. He knew that they were not ecstatic at the idea of Regina helping, and he knew that they would have said something to her. But they had no right to refuse her assistance on his behalf.

“They’re just concerned,” Regina calmly explained. “And they have every right to be; I did try to kill them.”

Robin put his right hand on Regina’s cheek and gave her a warm smile that softened all his features. When Regina returned his smile, he slid his hand to the back of her neck and lowered his mouth down to hers, closing his eyes at the very last second.

Tilting his head, Robin licked along Regina’s bottom lip before taking it between his teeth. Hands grasped at Robin’s shirt as the Queen took a step even closer to the thief. The arm Robin had injured moved to rest at the small of Regina’s back, despite his desperate need to have both his hands tangled in her hair. As it was, he had to settle for just the one, although Regina didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, if the moan she released was anything to go by.

When voices trailed up the corridor, Robin broke away, opening his eyes to see Regina looking up at him with her brows furrowed in confusion. Though when she heard a faint conversation—that was between two of the Merry Men and probably not intended for female ears—her eyes hardened and she looked behind her. She pulled Robin behind her and down a hallway, taking several lefts and rights before turning back to him.

“Regina—” Robin tried to speak, but she shushed him with her lips on his.

“There are very few reasons for people to come down here,” she explained as she gently pushed him back into the wall.

Regina leaned forward, intending to kiss him again, but just as her lips were about to reach their destination, the voices from a few seconds prior reappeared and suddenly seemed much louder.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Regina grabbed the cuff of Robin’s shirt and pulled him into the next room. As the Queen closed the door behind her, the thief looked around to take in his surroundings. The sunlight shone through the slits between the curtains, drawn as if in a hurry, dust floated in the rays of light managing to break through the gaps in the fabric—not quite thick enough to prevent the room from being cast in a warm glow. Robin noted the shelves, the chairs, the table...

And he chuckled when he recognised them.

“Well, this brings back fond memories,” said Robin mischievously, leaning against the wall and nodding towards the table towards the centre of the room.

Regina’s cheeks flushed as she recalled the last time they had been there. She had needed to focus on research, but of course the damned thief had distracted her; he had all of her attention redirected onto him as his lips and hands had trailed all over her,  swept the table clear and he had buried his fingers inside of her.

“Well, how about we make new ones?” Regina suggested as she pulled him away from the wall and back toward what she would now and forever refer to as “their table”.

Biting her lower lip, Regina grasped the edge of the table and lifted herself up onto it, smiling as Robin parted her thighs and stepped between them. Now impossibly close, Robin leaned in so his lips were hovering over Regina’s, his breath mingling with hers, his right hand trailing up her thigh as he raised his bandaged arm so he could trail the back of his fingers over her cheek.

“No protests from me,” he whispered, fingers tracing patterns on her thigh.

Regina grinned and went to press her lips to the outlaw’s, tired of waiting for him to make his move.

Then the door flung open.

 _For God’s sake,_ Regina thought. She and Robin separated and put a requisite three steps between them. The Queen turned her glare to the door and noted two guards standing there, their eyes widened in alarm.

“You—your majesty,” one stuttered as he bowed his head.

The other, taller guard also bowed his head in acknowledgment “Apologies, your majesty. We hadn’t known that this library was occupied.”

Regina scoffed, because it obviously _was_ occupied and, much to her dismay, their timing was less than spectacular. “Who sent you?” she asked.

“Snow White, your majesty,” the guard on the right answered, looking to his partner and then back again, worried by the flash of anger that crossed the Queen’s features.

“Oh, of course!” said Regina bitterly. Even while absent, the woman had still managed, somehow, to interrupt them. “What does she want?”

“She’s asked for us to collect a book for her,” the shorter one explained.

“Well, I hope you find it,” spat the Queen. _And hit her over the head with it,_ she continued in her mind.

Robin watched as Regina stormed away from him and out the door, paying no attention to the guards who flinched and quickly moved out her way to avoid angering her further. The thief just let out a wry chuckle and followed, clapping his right hand on the shoulder of one man in some sense of understanding, having been on the receiving end of the Queen’s wrath more than once.

When Robin caught up with her down the hallway, he reached out for her hand and pulled her to him, “Wait, Regina…are you alright?”

Regina spun around to face him. “Why does she keep doing this?” she asked exasperatedly.

“What?” asked Robin, taking a step back.

“Snow,” stated the Queen. “This must be some sort of payback for all those years that I tried to kill her; some grand scheme to get back at me.”

“Regina—” he warned.

“I bet she sits and waits until she knows that I don’t want to be interrupted,” Regina started, completely engrossed in her rant. “And then _there she goes_ , finding any way within her power to bother us.”

“Regina…” Robin chuckled.

The Queen huffed indignantly, “I swear Robin, one of these days I will try to kill her and I will succeed.”

“Regina!” The thief’s chuckle grew into a laugh.

“What,” she snapped, pulled out of her tirade.

Robin’s hands moved up to rest on her shoulders. “I doubt Snow sits and waits for the opportune moment to interrupt us,” he consoled. “These things happen sometimes.”

“Yes, but it’s _all the time_ , Robin,” Regina insisted, sounding less regal and far more melodramatic than she had intended.

Robin laughed again and smoothed his hand over Regina’s hair, “Is there anything I can do to aid you, your majesty?” he asked lowly.

The frown upon the Queen’s face faded into a smirk. “You can meet me in my chambers, thief,” she suggested, lifting her chin and locking her regal demeanour back into place.

“And if I’m busy?” Robin teased.

Regina grinned slyly, “Well, I wouldn’t leave me waiting for too long, outlaw.”

“Why ever not?” asked Robin as he moved his hand to splay over her shoulder, his thumb tracing collarbone.

“The orders are to be in my chambers,” stated Regina. “Said orders are from your Queen. You would do well to obey them with haste.”

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint her majesty,” he said with a fake sympathetic expression, “but I’ve never truly been one to abide by royalty’s laws.”

Regina hummed in acknowledgement. “Tell me something I didn’t know.”

He considered for a moment. “I really, _really_ want you right now,” Robin whispered, his breath ghosting over her lips.

“I know that,” said Regina as she grinded her hips forwards into his. “I can _feel_ that,” she amended with a sly grin.

Robin moved his left arm to her back as his right hand grasped her ass and kept her pressed to him, a soft groan making its way past his lips at the contact. Regina’s fingers trailed up his torso, past his shoulders and into the hair at the back of his neck as she pulled closer to him still.

“Regina, if you don’t stop that,” he hissed, “I’ll take you right here and I don’t care who sees us.”

The grip Regina had on Robin’s hair tightened as she exhaled shakily. If he didn’t stop talking like that, she’d be the one taking him. Damn thief.

“Robin,” she moaned as he pulled her closer still.

Attempting to capture her lips with his, Robin was mildly offended when the Queen leaned back and avoided his kiss. “My chambers. Soon as you’d like.”

With that, she disappeared in a cloud of purple smoke and left the thief grasping thin air.

Damn Queen.

~

When Regina materialised in her room, it took her a few moments to even out her breathing. These several short minutes in her room would give her enough time to compose herself and keep her mind somewhat in control, at least before the thief arrived. Then she’d probably have difficulty thinking straight, much less breathing right.

Taking her pins out her hair, Regina let her long tresses flow down her back, combing a hand through to calm any loose strands. Moving to put the pins on her bedside table, the Queen came to a sudden stop when she saw a beautiful bouquet of flowers. With a frown, Regina took a few steps forward, placing the pins down and then putting her hands either side of the small table.

The bouquet was beautiful, with white lilies and peach roses and blue forget-me-nots, green leaves filling all the spaces where petals could not. Regina spotted a small parchment partially hidden between two flowers. Carefully removing it, Regina read the words that were scrawled in fairly unruly handwriting.

“Thank you for your offered assistance, your majesty,” it read.

And that was it. No name, no initial, nothing. Robin, perhaps?

It had to have been the thief; who else could it have been? No one else had any reason to send her flowers. Although, Regina didn’t think the thief had much reason to, either, but she wouldn’t complain if he wanted to offer her nice gestures every so often.

Gently, Regina lifted a rose out of the bouquet and brought it to her nose, smiling at the sweet scent. Twirling the stem between her fingers, Regina’s gaze took another glance at the whole arrangement. The thief certainly had good taste when it came to flowers.

A knock on the door startled the Queen out of her reverie. Placing the rose back into the vase, Regina made her way toward the door. She had only taken four steps before it swung open.

Only Robin would have let himself into her chambers. Only Robin was brave enough.

Sure enough, the thief came into view. But before he could take two steps, Regina had nudged the door behind him with her foot and pressed forward, using Robin’s body to push the door closed.  He let out a grimace as the bruises on his back hit the wood, but then Regina bit at the pulse point on his neck and started unfastening his shirt, then he forgot everything but the feeling of her touch.

“Regina,” Robin moaned, grabbing a fistful of long, black hair as his words were smothered by Regina’s lips.

It was when Regina lowered herself onto her knees that Robin glanced up and noticed the flowers by her bedside. “Who are they from?” he asked, astonished.

“What?” asked Regina distractedly as she tucked her fingers into his waistband.

“The flowers,” Robin said, pointing toward the bouquet.

Regina paused in her actions, looking up at him. “I thought they were from you,” she replied.

“No,” he admitted.

“No?” Regina stood back up, trying to think of someone else that might have given her flowers, and came up with nothing. “Well, thief, it appears that I have a secret admirer.”

Regina grinned, taking hold of the collar of his shirt and leaning forward to kiss him, but Robin grasped her hands and removed them. He refastened his shirt as he pushed them both backward, away from the doorway a few steps.

“I’ll be back,” he said, pressing a firm kiss to her lips before he left, closing the door behind him.

Regina let out a deep sigh and she put her hands on her hips, staring at the now empty room. “I’ll just wait here, then,” she irritably shouted after him.

Damn thief.

…

Robin spent the entire journey back down to the Merry Men’s hallway getting more and more frustrated. The knowledge that he had no valid reason to be so wound up didn’t make any difference. Reaching Will Stutely’s chambers—which had become somewhat of a common room for him and his men—and opening the door, Robin was greeted by the tail end of an animated discussion followed by raucous laughter. Robin’s eyes scoured the room, flitting from man to man until he found the one he was looking for.

“George,” Robin called. “May I speak with you?”

“Of course,” George turned and remained in his seat with his palms on his knees, fully prepared to have a discussion with his leader from exactly where he was. Robin appeared to disapprove and motioned for the man to follow him out the door he had just come through.

Turning to see the rest of the Merry Men with confused expressions that matched his own, George got up from his seat and made to follow his leader out of the room.

The door had barely shut when Robin turned to George and asked, “What do you want from Regina?”

Taken slightly aback at his friend’s question, George stuttered out, “Excuse me?”

“The flirting, the flowers…what are you hoping to achieve?” asked Robin again.

From where George stood, it appeared that Robin was confused, as if he could not understand why he would be giving the Queen any attention.

“Why are you asking?” George asked, buying himself some time to think of an answer. “Is somebody jealous?” he teased.

Robin huffed. “Just answer the question, George.”

“Well, Robin, not that it’s any of your business, but I want to get to know her,” George started.  “She’s nothing like the image I had of the Evil Queen and I thought that if I was kind to her, perhaps…”

“Perhaps what?” Robin asked, after his friend’s words had trailed away.

“Then perhaps she’d like to get to know me, too,” he supplied.

George looked sincere. He really did. But Robin could not prevent the wave of an emotion that he could not quite put a name to from sweeping through him.

“Are you certain she has the time?” Robin asked.

George’s brows furrowed. “You’re implying that she’s not interested?” he countered.

“I’m implying that she has a lot to think about,” said Robin with a shrug. “It’s possible that she’s a bit preoccupied and too busy to entertain you.”

“Well, perhaps she’d appreciate some help,” George’s grin turned slightly mischievous, “or some company.”

“She doesn’t need another distraction.” Robin said. His jaw clenched involuntarily; _he_ was her distraction.

“She hasn’t told me that she’s not interested. And, unless she does, I don’t see a reason not to continue,” said George. He put his hands in his pockets and stood a bit straighter. “Regina’s a beautiful woman, Robin, I’m surprised that no one else seems to have noticed.”

“Perhaps someone has,” mumbled Robin, evidently just loud enough for his friend to hear.     

“Am I treading on any toes here, Robin?” George asked suspiciously.

Robin was sorely tempted to say “yes”, and to tell him that Regina was not like the other women that George pursued for the sole intention of bedding and then abandoning them. But obviously, Regina would not appreciate that.

“I just don’t want you getting in somebody’s way.” Robin settled for. He hadn’t meant for it to sound threatening in the slightest, though for the way George lifted his chin and stared down at Robin, it appeared he was unsuccessful.

“Oh, well you know me, Robin; I’d hate to get in your—I mean, I’d hate to get in someone’s way.” It was clear that George’s slip-up was deliberate, letting Robin know that he had overstepped.

This was not going the way the thief had intended. He hadn’t come for an argument; he had only wanted to ensure that George wouldn’t hurt Regina.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt, George,” he said with a sigh.

George huffed indignantly. “I can handle myself.”

“It’s not you that I’m worried about,” Robin stated, keeping his voice low and even. Of course George would misunderstand; it was the lad’s constant thinking of himself that could end up upsetting Regina. “I think it would be best if you eased off.”

George’s glare hardened. “I think it would be best if Regina told me herself, if she is not interested. I’m not asking her to fall in love with me, Robin. I’m asking if she’d mind us having a little fun.”

“She is not a game to be played with George,” said Robin through gritted teeth. “She is a human being. You’d do well to treat her as such.”

George placed his hands on his hips and broadened his shoulders, delivering his response with genuine honesty. “I shall treat her as the Queen she is; with the upmost respect.”

After a short moment, somewhat satisfied with George’s response, Robin backed away. ”Be careful,” he said warningly.

George let out a wry laugh and made his way to go back into Will’s room, but Robin grabbed his arm before he could reach the handle of the door.

“If she gets hurt, you’ll answer to me,” Robin warned. “Understood?”

George nodded his head once. “Understood.”

The moment Robin’s hand released George’s wrist, the younger Merry Man walked back into the room once again, the air still filled with laughter. George shut the door behind him, leaving Robin standing in the hallway with a clenched jaw and high pulse rate.

As Robin slowly relaxed, he realised that he desperately needed to get a handle on this situation. He did not usually behave this way; he was not one to get involved in his mens’ lives. Whoever they wanted to spend their time with was their own business. But there was _something_ about Regina that made him want to protect her, even if that meant butting heads with his own men.

Because he would not let anyone hurt her.

Ever.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know it's been a while but this has been such a huge chapter that I've had to split it into two parts. So this is the first part now, and the next shall be up whenever my beta has worked her magic :)  
> Thanks for putting up with my slow updates :) you guys are amazing  
> xXx

Regina sat at a table, head resting on one hand with the other holding open her book. She was thoroughly engrossed in reading about mythical beings and age-old potions, searching for anything that could be of use to her. Well, that and silently stewing about the whole interruption fiasco. She was growing more and more frustrated as she remembered that Robin had walked out on _her—_ for something _so_ important that, apparently, it just couldn’t wait.

Hearing soft footfalls behind her, Regina prayed that it was the thief so that she could work him up, then leave _him_ high and dry. She wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. But the slight scent that she caught was not that of the thief. Well, not her particular thief anyway.

Looking to her right, Regina could see the man with one hand on the chair beside her. She couldn’t help but feel a touch of disappointment that the Merry Man in front of her was George and not Robin.

With a short-sleeved green shirt and the loose, dark brown trousers that the Merry Men seemed to live in, the Queen couldn’t help but wonder if the group of outlaws shared clothing as well as everything else.

“Is this seat taken?” George asked quietly, so as to not shatter the silence that had befallen the large room.

It obviously wasn’t; the whole room was empty. But nevertheless, George didn’t seem to feel comfortable sitting next to the Queen without asking for her permission first.

When Regina gestured at the seat whilst inclining her head, George sat down, his hands in his lap to avoid his bare arms coming into contact with the cold metal décor on the chair.

“So,” George started, “what’s going on between you and my fearless leader?”

Regina’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Excuse me?”

“You and Robin,” he said. “What’s there?”

“What do you mean?” Regina asked, sounding more nervous than she intended. “Nothing.”

“Oh, well I’ve just been told, more or less, that you are unavailable.” George watched as Regina’s jaw set and she took a controlled breath in. “If there was a mix up somewhere—”

“No. It’s not… there’s…” With a deep sigh, Regina turned in her chair to fully face George. “I apologise if I’ve given you the impression that I’m…looking for something. But I’m not.”

George nodded his head, sitting back in his chair. “Oh.”

“And it has nothing to do with Robin,” Regina hastily clarified. “I’m just… not suitable for a relationship. With anyone.”

“I see,” George nodded again. “My mistake.”

“I’m sure you’re a great guy,” Regina added, feeling slightly guilty upon seeing the dejected face in front of her. “But… _this_ ,” she gestured between the two of them, “won’t go anywhere. I didn’t mean to let you think otherwise.”

George just gave a small smile. “No, it’s fine. Thank you for clarifying. You can take my failed advances as flattery.”

“They didn’t fail, I—”

He smiled and leaned forward, “You don’t find me irresistible, milady, so they failed.”

Regina laughed. “Well, I’m sure if you were to ‘advance’ on any other woman, she’d be forever yours.”

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better,” George said, folding his arms as if doing an impression of a young boy in a tantrum.

Regina couldn’t help a mocking, “Well…yes.”

“I see how it is, then; if it wasn’t bad enough that my seductive powers have failed me, I do believe that the Queen is mocking me.” George raised an arm over his forehead in a typical over-reaction as he declared, “My life is not worth living anymore.”

“Oh, stop being so melodramatic,” Regina said as she turned back to her book, glancing at him from the corner of her eye with a grin.

“Of course, it’s only you who’s allowed to be melodramatic. Isn’t that right, your majesty?”

Regina looked at him in mock outrage that softened into a chuckle when she saw his mischievous grin. “You can’t blame a man for trying, your majesty,” George said as his grin faded. “I mean you’re…well, you’re…beautiful.”

Regina bit her lip. “Thank you.”

“So… friends it is, then?” He held his hand out to her, but the offer of friendship took Regina aback and she sat there staring, searching her mind for a reason that he would choose to befriend the Evil Queen.

“You shake it,” he whispered mockingly, after a few moments of heavy silence.

Regina’s eyes snapped to his amused smile. “I know. I’m just… not used to people asking to be my friend.”

“Well, that’s their loss,” George said, his gaze falling down to his hand before his eyes flicked back up to see a small smile appear on the Queen’s face.

Regina took George’s hand, her smile growing with his.

It was that moment that Robin walked in. And at the sight of his Queen and his friend—the one he had just told to watch himself—holding hands and smiling, the unwanted pangs of jealousy returned.

George stood up to leave, placing a kiss to the Queen’s knuckles before sweeping into an elaborate bow. “By your leave, your majesty.”

“Get out of here,” Regina chuckled.

George couldn’t help teasing his leader with a suggestive wink as he left the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him. Robin stalked over to the round table and immediately sat down in the chair George had just vacated.

After a few seconds of waiting, Robin caved and turned to Regina. “What was that?”

“What was what?” asked Regina, eyes fixated on her book as she turned a page.

Robin pointed to the door where George had just through. “What was _that_?”

“George was asking if I was available,” Regina coolly explained, her eyes skimming the text in front of her.

“Oh.” Robin watched his fingers as they trailed over the metal arm of the chair that his hand was resting on, trying to appear nonchalant. “And you said?”

“What is your problem?” she asked irritably.

When Regina looked back up at the thief sat next to her, Robin looked very confused.

“That’s not what I said to George,” Regina explained. “I’m asking you; what is your problem?”

“ _My_ problem?” Robin asked.

“Yes, Robin. _Your_ problem,” Regina snapped. “Because you cannot go and overreact every time somebody who’s not you shows me a little attention.”

“I’m not overreacting,” Robin mumbled.

Regina gave Robin an incredulous look. “From what I gather, you just told George that I am ‘unavailable’.”

“I never actually said that,” protested Robin.

“Well, you certainly implied it,” Regina retorted. “Does it even occur to you how childish you are acting right now?”

Robin sat back in his chair, affronted. “I’m not being childish!”

“Robin, you’re acting like somebody’s trying to steal your toy,” she sniped. “I understand that you’re not used to sharing—being a thief and all—but you need to stop.”

“Regina—”

“No,” Regina interrupted as she slammed her book shut. “You need to understand this; I am not a possession. I do not belong to you. And just because we’re having sex does not mean that you can act like a jealous husband.”

Robin held his hands out in an attempted display of protest. “I’m not acting like a jealous husband.”

“No? You’re trying to control who talks to me.” His actions starkly being spelled out to him was a slap to Robin’s face. “I had enough of that with Leopold. I do not need it from you.”

Regina stood – the scrape of the chair against the floor made Robin wince – and walked away from the thief, intending to leave him sitting there. She would collect all of her books later. But Robin soon rose to his feet and chased after her, grasping her hand before she could reach the door and turning her to face him.

“I’m sorry,” Robin said, his eyes boring into Regina’s in an attempt to show his sincerity.

Regina merely replied, “I don’t care,” before turning away again.

Refusing to let go of her hand, Robin pulled her back to him. “No, Regina. You’re right. I was out of line.”

“Yes, you were,” Regina agreed.

“I didn’t mean… I just…” Robin stuttered, taking a breath to try and collect his words. “I didn’t know. About Leopold, I mean. I had no idea he treated you like that.”

“Not many people do,” Regina admitted, eyes downcast. “The King couldn’t love me, but he refused to let anybody else try.”

Robin let go of her hand and grasped her shoulders, waiting until she looked up at him. “Regina… I assure you, it was never my intention to hurt you. I will do all I can to make it up to you.”

With a sad smile Regina gently shook her head, trying to brush off their argument, not feeling up to sparring with the thief when the memories of her past marriage were running through her head. “Forget it.”

Robin trailed his hands from her shoulders to her cheeks. “Regina, I’m… I’m not used to fighting for someone’s attention.” Tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear, Robin’s eyes catalogued every detail of the face in front of him. From Regina’s chocolate brown eyes, to her long lashes, to her full lips and to the scar he had wondered about but never inquired after. “And for someone as beautiful as you… I was naïve for thinking I would be the only person interested in pursuing you.”

Regina couldn’t help the blush from heating up her cheeks, and she ducked her head to hide the smile now gracing her lips, the thief’s hands falling back to her shoulders. “Robin…”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Regina brought her hands up to Robin’s face. “But you don’t have to fight for anything; you told me you wanted me to yourself. That was enough. I wouldn’t—”

“No, I know,” Robin assured her, offering a smile.

“Besides,” the Queen’s gaze turned towards the floor as her voice took on a more sensual tone, “you made your claim on me quite clear last night.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Regina didn’t even need to look up to know that Robin wore a smug smile; she could hear it in every word the thief said.

“Yes, you did.” Memories of the events of the previous night flashed before both of them, making Regina’s blush deepen and Robin sink his teeth into his lower lip.

“Can I claim you again?” He asked.

Regina looked up at the thief with an exasperated smile, expecting his signature smirk, but his gaze was intense and focused on her lips.

“What? Now?”

Robin leaned forwards until his lips were against her cheek, “I want you, Regina.” His hands trailed to her back, one up towards the nape of her neck, the other down towards her backside. “I want to feel your—”

“Okay,” Regina leaned back and placed her right index finger on his lips, “Enough of that, Robin. Anyone could walk in.”

“Then use your magic and take us to your room,” He spoke around her finger before pressing a kiss to it.

“I can’t, I’m here to meet the un-Charmings,” Regina said with a roll of her eyes.

Robin took the hand silencing him in his as he let his head fell to her shoulder with a groan. “I’m beginning to agree with you about the sabotage; they’re always ruining our fun.”

Regina let out a wry chuckle, “Tell me about it.” Robin raised his head and opened his mouth, just as Regina had done earlier, until she stopped him, “Actually, don’t.”

As fate would have it, it was that exact moment that Snow reached their general council chamber. Walking in the room she assumed to be empty, the princess was shocked at the unaware couple standing in close quarters. From the angle she was stood at Snow could not see the expression on either of their faces but, she did see Robin’s hand trailing up Regina’s arm to rest on her shoulder and the Queen pulling back a little. Not wanting to be stuck in the middle of yet another argument between the Queen and the thief, Snow debated if it would be better to just retreat and come back in a few minutes.

Backing up and standing just outside of the door, hidden from sight, Snow waited for the sound of the outlaw receiving a slap to the face or the cracking of his knuckles—having heard the stories of Regina breaking a wandering hand or two in her time as Queen—but she heard nothing.

Peeking around the door, Snow couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Regina letting out a low chuckle as Robin leaned even closer to murmur something to her, pulling back with a smile on his face.

Down the hallway, Charming had finally caught up with his wife—having had to stop and talk to Dr. Whale about sending out a group of men to collect medicinal plants—Snow walked towards him and started a conversation, talking loud enough so she knew that the couple inside could break away in good time.

When both the Charmings walked in, Regina was in a chair and leaning over a book, Robin sat on the table a little distance away pretending to read another. If Snow hadn’t been with her husband she would have laughed at Robin subtly turning it the right way up, but as far as they knew she hadn’t seen anything. Whatever was going on between the two of them was none of her business, even if the curious part of her desperately wanted to know everything about the pair.

Her friendship with Regina was still incredibly fragile at best, and Snow did not want to risk that. So, she would say nothing; nothing about the couple she had seen in a very close embrace or about the Queen apparently enjoying an outlaw’s attention, and she would say nothing about the manoeuvre to cover themselves—performed so quickly that Snow knew that this was not the first time they had nearly been caught together.

So, pushing the duo—now pretending they weren’t glancing at each other—to the back of her mind, Snow walked towards the table and sat down, patting the seat on her left to encourage her husband to sit beside her.

…

The meeting went as expected; those who had information sharing it when required, a few interruptions when people disagreed, a few mild threats when those disagreements got out of hand and more than a few eyerolls on the Queen’s part at everyone’s alarming display of stupidity.

Robin, however, couldn’t help but feel a bit useless; he didn’t have much of anything to contribute, as he had not been officially invited to the meeting. Snow had requested an extra chair at the table for him and had told him to sit without really giving him much choice in the matter.

So there he was, sitting with a dwarf on his right and a princess on his left, listening intently to the conversation around him and trying to recall any information, opinions or experience he had to offer, but so far he had come up with nothing.

Robin leaned back in his chair and looked over at Regina, who was gazing at him with an expression difficult to read, but clearly flirtatious in nature. The thief was unsure if it was the way the Queen was looking at him that stirred the feelings of arousal, or if, perhaps, it was the way that the rich purple corset on her dress dropped in a very low neckline that he had just noticed—he suddenly wanted to trace it with his fingers, and then his tongue.

The outlaw’s stomach clenched at the thought, and then his trousers felt a bit too tight and this was unusual; he shouldn’t be feeling this much this quickly. Usually, he had time to rein his thoughts in at least a bit before there was a physical reaction. Looking up at Regina and seeing her smirk still growing, Robin couldn’t help but feel slightly uneasy as he considered what thoughts might have been running through the Queen’s mind, she probably knew all about his _problem_ already. And Robin doubted that her majesty would help him out in the slightest.

Robin was startled when he felt a hand pressing gently into his crotch, just managing to stifle a yelp. Looking down, Robin was completely confounded when he saw nothing there. Then he looked back up at Regina and noticed she was still grinning at him.

Robin worked out what she was doing. And he bloody hated her for it.

When the pressure increased slightly, Robin jerked his leg into the table, knocking over a few of the books and making Snow and Red jump in shock. Charming looked over at Robin— now grimacing as he rubbed his sore knee—and asked if he was alright. After he replied in the affirmative, Robin looked over to Regina, who had schooled her expression into the picture of innocence, and sent a glare her way.

The pressure lifted and Robin took a deep breath in, thankful that he could finally concentrate on the conversations around him. But then there was a feather light touch against his knee, slowly crawling inch by torturous inch up his thigh, and his breath started to become uneven again. Robin couldn’t work out if this was better or worse than when she pressed flush against him.

Looking up at Regina, he saw the tip of her tongue swipe her parted lips. Then, he felt the same warm, wet touch at the tip of him his eyes closed and his jaw clenched. With his hands grasping the arms of his chair so tightly that his knuckles turned white, he sent her a warning glare, although it waned into contentment as her magic became more focussed and the thief could feel it mimicking the palm of her hand, trailing up and down his length in time with his breaths.

What was she thinking? He knew she was bold and reckless, but this? This was a dangerous game, even for her. Charming kept glancing over at Robin, silently asking if he was alright, and each time Robin replied with a nod, which was—thankfully—enough to placate the prince. But if he ever needed to give a verbal response, it was unlikely that the thief could convince them that everything was fine.

Because everything was not fine.

Robin was having difficulty breathing evenly and he kept shifting in his seat, trying to alleviate some of the pressure of his too-tight trousers, without reaching down and adjusting – which he would never get away with, sitting at a table with five other people. It was no use, and he was loathe to admit that he had no option but to sit through the Evil Queen’s torture and pretend that he didn’t want to be close enough to return the favour.

Although he wasn’t near enough to reach her, Robin let his mind wander with ideas of how to exact his revenge at a later date. He could sit next to her at the next meeting, pray that she wore her leather trousers or something similar with easy access, and she would be the one caught out of breath and trying to maintain eye contact with the prince and princess, whilst her mind was clouded and she could think of nothing other than fucking the person responsible for her unsettled nerves.

Or, perhaps, he could torture her somewhere less public. Somewhere he could tease and tease her until she was right on the edge, then stop, and then repeat. Somewhere he would make her beg and plead with him, and only then would he even consider being merciful. Because whilst she may have been the Queen of the castle, she was just Regina to him. And he didn’t mind teaching Regina a little lesson on how to behave in public.

Because this was not fair.

She gave him a mischievous smirk and he watched her rest her head on her hand, biting on one of her fingers and raising her eyebrows, her eyes staring straight into his. Then, it felt as if she had wrapped her hand around him completely, and Robin couldn’t supress the deep, guttural groan that escaping his lips.

Charming looked at him in concern, “Robin? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Robin replied through gritted teeth. “Only a headache.”

He looked to Regina and saw her hiding a smile behind her fingers, her mischievous eyes peeking out at him. Robin looked away and tried to focus on something—anything—other than the fact that he was almost over the edge, without even having been touched. But when the Queen’s pace became firmer, faster, Robin sank his teeth into his bottom lip to stifle a moan, and Regina continued to watch him squirm, thoroughly amused.   

Clenching his fists, Robin started to breathe heavily through his nose. He knew that if he opened his mouth, the game would be over and everyone around the table would be embarrassingly aware of just what, exactly, was wrong with him. Robin swallowed and prayed that either this torment would stop incredibly soon, or everyone would be too damn occupied in conversation to notice the Prince of Thieves coming in his pants—a fate that could easily come true, if Regina continued this unique brand of torture of hers.

But she didn’t; she stopped. Moments before Robin lost control.

Robin sent a fierce glare her way. Although, if you were to ask him, Robin couldn’t honestly say if the glare was because Regina had started this mess, or because she refused to finish it.

The outlaw’s desperate thoughts turned to just taking her on the table, removing all the books and bending her over, pulling up her skirts and thrusting into her without caring for anything else. The others could stay and watch for all he cared; this urgent need to be inside her muddled his sense of reasoning.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Robin’s head whipped to his left to look at Snow, her brows furrowed in worry as the rest of the table gaped at him.

Robin was aiming to say “I’m fine”, but just as he got past “I”, the sensations of Regina taking him into her mouth overwhelmed him and his head fell forward to hide his gasp. His eyes closed for a second and he took a deep, shaky breath, trying to compose himself before he attempted to answer again.

“I’m—” he paused once more at the feeling of Regina’s nails scraping down his thighs, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” asked Regina innocently from across the table, “You look a bit worked up.”

It took Regina all the willpower that she had to not laugh at the outlaw’s glare; if looks could kill, then the kingdom would definitely need a new reigning monarch. But, as it were, Robin rose to his feet and left. Walking out of the room with his fists clenched, unsteady footfalls and a slightly different gait, the thief was simply unable to endure a second more. Regina grinned at the sound of the door slamming, feeling somewhat proud of her ability to rile the usually calm thief enough to make him storm out. 

Red, Grumpy, Snow and Charming traded glances, their confusion evident at the cause of the archer’s sudden departure. Then Snow’s gaze fell on Regina. Looking down at her hands placed in her lap with a smug smile, it was completely obvious that Robin had left because of something she had done. Snow rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Regina,” Snow sighed, “whatever you’ve just done, go and fix it.”

“What?” asked Regina, keeping up the pretences of her innocence. “Why does everyone assume when anyone goes off in a huff that it’s always my fault?”

“Because it usually is,” Charming offered.

Regina glared at him.

“Regina, just go and apologise,” Snow ordered.

“I didn’t—” Regina stopped when she realised that she had just been given an excuse to go missing for a while, and she could—finally—fuck the outlaw into the ground. Hiding her sudden enthusiasm—and the reasoning behind it she mustered up a frustrated sigh and stood with false reluctance. “Fine,” huffed the Queen.

Leaving the table and walking toward the door, Regina’s smile grew with every step she took.

That smile turned into a chuckle when she closed the heavy door behind her and set out to follow the outlaw.

This was going to be fun.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you the next update would be soon... here it is.   
> I hope y'all like it, the next one will probably be a short while but rest assured I am spending the majority of my time writing it.   
> xXx

Quieting her footsteps, Regina walked at a good distance behind the thief, who was muttering curses and complaints with each step he took as he stormed his way down the corridors until he had nearly reached his room.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Regina called out, enjoying the way the outlaw jumped slightly before grinding to a halt.

In one swift manoeuvre, Robin turned, grabbed Regina and pinned her to the wall with his hands on her hips. “Do that to me again Regina and I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Regina taunted, her head inclining as her voice lowered.

Robin surged forward, his body pressing against hers and his grip on her hips tightening enough that Regina was sure she would have bruises the next morning.

“I’ll fuck you so hard that you’ll be wincing for days,” growled Robin, resting his forehead against hers as his gaze bore into Regina’s.

It took a few seconds for Regina to get her breath back. But once she had, she swallowed and sultrily asked, “Is that a promise?”

Robin’s hands flexed against her hips. “Test me and find out.”

“Are you sure you want me to?” Regina teased as she ran her hands up his arms to rest on his shoulders. “You didn’t really seem to be enjoying yourself very much in there.”

“Oh, I was enjoying myself plenty,” Robin admitted, “But I was having difficulty trying to keep it hidden from the others.”

Regina hummed, her head tilting to the side in contemplation, “Then I suppose I’ll have to try harder next time.”

“Only push me if you think you can handle it, Regina,” Robin warned, leaning forward until his lips were hovering over hers, his breath mingling with the Queen’s.

“I can handle anything you give me, outlaw,” retorted Regina, tilting her head up, her eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back again.

“Is _that_ a promise?” Robin asked, imitating Regina’s tone and head inclination from earlier.

Regina chuckled, breathing “ _yes_ ” against his lips.

For a few seconds, they stared at each other, waiting until one of them finally snapped and made the first move. In the end, the anticipation became too much; neither was sure who closed the distance first, but their lips met in a heated frenzy—teeth clashing, tongues duelling, hands roaming.

Backing up into his room, Robin dragged Regina through the door and used her body to shut it behind them. Drawing her left foot up to rest on the wood behind her, knee bent, Regina pushed off and spun them until Robin found himself trapped and being divested of his shirt. Then, petite hands made their way to the leather securing his trousers and pulled his hips towards hers before she untucked his shirt.

Standing at his doorway, feeling hard wood pressing into his back and soft curves pressing into his front, Robin felt his layers of clothing being swiftly removed one by one, the piles of fabric that littered the floor around them growing with increasing speed and untidiness. The thief himself, however, could not seem to manage untying the laces securing Regina’s purple, lacy corset. Nimble hands unfastened his belt, but Robin, wanting to be on more even ground, mumbled “wait” into the Queen’s open mouth.

Regina stopped and took a small step back from the thief, but he kept his arms around her and pulled her against him again. Seeing Regina confused, Robin leaned back in to trail his lips down the column of her throat; “You’re entirely overdressed, wait a moment.”

Robin captured her lips once more, whilst his hand trailed over the laces and yanked at the strands that had loosened. Regina chuckled against his lips as she felt him get frustrated when the garment refused to do what he wanted it to. Leaning back against the door, Robin felt offended at the Queen’s choice of clothing and at the woman herself for laughing at his misfortune. It was her fault that his hands weren’t fully cooperating anyway; if she didn’t leave a trail of fire wherever her skin touched his, it would be a lot easier to concentrate on undoing her damn laces.

With an impish grin, Regina simply stated, “I’m tired of waiting,” before grabbing the end of his belt. In one swift tug, the belt was removed and it dangled from Regina’s hand. Not breaking her gaze from the thief’s, she let the belt fall from her grasp to land on the floor with a soft thud.

Biting her lip, she backed up in the direction of his bed, and with a smouldering gaze she unlaced the corset herself, giving Robin a smug grin when it fell away from her torso in mere seconds. “Come on, outlaw. Show me what you’re capable of.”

The heat in Robin’s eyes as he stalked over to her made Regina’s grin widen until he not-so-gently lifted her up and placed her on his bed before crawling over her.

“You couldn’t handle it,” he growled.

“Careful, dear,” Regina teased. “You’re giving me high expectations.”

Robin’s response was a cocky; “I’ll deliver.”

Regina made to retort with something witty and teasing, but when a finger gently slid across her dampened underwear, she bit down roughly on her bottom lip, holding back her groan, any clever taunt fading from her mind.

“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” she managed, with an arched back as his hand tore at her underwear until it came away.

Dropping the ripped piece of fabric to the floor and returning his hand to stroke and tease, Robin couldn’t help but feel smug at the Queen’s gasp.

“I didn’t hear any complaints last night,” Robin teased. “You remember, when you were moaning my name, ordering me to take you harder…”

“Robin,” Regina’s teeth dragged across her lower lip.

“And then when you did that thing with your—”

Regina clamped a hand over the thief’s mouth, muffling the rest of his words. “Stop talking.”

Moving the hand silencing him to the back of his neck, Regina pulled Robin’s mouth onto hers, sighing and wrapping her right leg over his left, trailing her foot up and down his calf. Robin gladly parted his lips over hers and devoured her mouth with enough passion to leave the Queen breathless and unable to do anything but claw at the outlaw’s shoulders.

Pulling away, Robin smirked before he started to kiss his way down to her stomach, enjoying the way he felt her heartbeat increase under his lips as he passed her sternum. He paused to bite at the Queen’s hipbones until he heard her whisper his name. The thief grinned against her skin before continuing his trail down her thighs, moving away from where she most wanted him.

“Robin,” she groaned. The sound of it made him chuckle as he switched from travelling down her left thigh to the same spot on her right, nipping and kissing his way back up until he was mere centimetres away from tasting her.

Regina’s breathing paused in anticipation, just waiting for him to lean forward that precious inch. But the thief waited, his breath ghosting over her making shivers run from head to toe. Regina lifted her head to look down at him with an accusatory glance. Then he pressed his tongue against her in a firm lick and her head fell back into the pillow with a moan much louder than she had intended.

The vibrations from Robin’s chuckle sent shockwaves through her and Regina grabbed at the edge of the mattress, choking back another moan. But when his tongue dragged across her clit, Regina couldn’t hold back her loud gasp, her back arching until Robin placed a hand on the Queen’s stomach to push her back down onto the bed.

“Robin…” Regina breathed, the hand not clenching the mattress reaching up to fist in the pillow at the side of her head. The outlaw responded by trailing his tongue down and thrusting it into her as far as it could go, slowly withdrawing, then repeating.

Placing a hand under her right knee, Robin guided Regina’s leg over his shoulder to get a better, deeper angle—one that had the Queen unable to speak or do anything other than let out a series of whimpers.

Regina dug her heel into a spot on the thief’s back, but when he let out a hiss and shifted away from her, she quickly moved it, remembering that he had been in a fistfight the night before and he wasn’t completely healed. Murmuring a quick apology, Regina lifted her hips in a silent plea for him to continue. It was a plea that he was all too happy to respond to; kissing his way back up to her clit and wrapping his lips around it, applying a gentle suction that had the Queen gasping.

With a quivering leg over Robin’s shoulder, Regina’s left hand gripped the sheet so hard her knuckles turned white and her other grasped a handful of the thief’s hair, tugging and giving directions—if “yes, there!” and “oh, God!” could be considered directions.

When the sensations of his tongue and lips and the gentle scrape of his teeth became too much, Regina’s left hand let go of the now-crumpled sheets and joined her other in Robin’s hair, dragging him back up before thoroughly kissing him again, tugging on the strands she held in her grasp to direct his mouth over hers.

Tasting herself on his tongue only seemed to heighten her arousal, and from his groan and the proof of Robin’s desire pressing into her stomach, it appeared the thief was as ready as she was.

Regina groaned into his mouth, “I swear to god, if you don’t—”

“Do you ever stop giving orders?” Robin asked as he pulled back to lean on his forearms over her.

Her answer was in the form of a smug; “No.”

“You should try it.” His mouth moved to her neck and trailed up until he took the lobe of her ear into his mouth, shifting his weight onto one arm so he could trail the other up and down her torso, swiping a thumb over a pert nipple, drawing a gasp into his ear. “Let someone else do the ordering once in a while.”

“That’s never really gone that well for me,” Regina confessed.

In the very few times Regina had allowed herself to let go in bed, it was never quite what she wanted; there was always something missing that left her unsatisfied. And the thought of the more frequent times, where she couldn’t control events surrounding her, made her mind wander to lost loves and pain and darkness—and that was not something she should be thinking about with Robin gazing down at her with a comforting smile and kind eyes.

“You just haven’t had the right person ordering you,” the thief gently responded.

Robin ran the hand not supporting his weight over the skin under him, his oh-so-gentle touch setting Regina’s skin on fire. In her logical mind, Regina knew the thief wouldn’t hurt her; despite their harsh words and insults, Robin had never once laid a finger on her with malicious intent, which was more than what could be said for others residing in the castle; a few old guards, a couple of her subjects she had wronged and several drunken people who believed that they were strong enough to take on the most powerful practitioner of magic in the entire kingdom… They had all believed that everyone would be better off without the Evil Queen living amongst them and had tried to make it as such. They didn’t make it very far; the majority of them were being held in the castle dungeons, one had fled and one was killed in a fight of sword against magic that magic had won.

“Trust me,” whispered Robin into Regina’s skin, drawing her from her thoughts, “I’d never hurt you, Regina.”

_Trust him?_

Regina made it her mission to not trust anybody. The lessons her mother had instilled in her—the ones about trust being the easiest way to destroy a person—were incredibly difficult to let go of. But as she watched Robin treat her with such care and affection, something she seldom experienced, the realisation that she already trusted him—more than she should—hit her hard.

“Okay,” Regina breathed. Robin looked up from his task of kissing every one of the Queen’s ribs, waiting for her to respond to him. “You want control? You have it. But just for tonight."

“Are you sure?” Robin asked, the slight uncertainty radiating from the Queen made him reluctant to take her word.

“Don’t make me change my mind, outlaw,” growled Regina, her hesitation fading as she moved her hands to his back and made him lie more heavily on top of her.

Robin grinned, his worry faded as desire and anticipation won out. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

They had come a long way since he had last said those very words. If someone had told him outside those tunnels that, a few short months later, he would have seduced the Queen – that she would end up in his bed and he would have the opportunity to have his way with her – he would have laughed at them and called them insane.

But here they were, gazing into each other’s eyes, skin on skin, breathing heavy as hands roamed. Robin was grateful that they _had_ ended up there, and he prayed to whatever god was out there that this would never end.

Grinning, Robin sat back on heels, his knees either side of her waist and his hands trailing from her shoulders down to her wrists. Taking her hands in his, he raised them above her head and told her to keep them there, guiding her fingers to wrap around the wooden poles of Robin’s headboard as he started kissing down her neck.

Shuffling back until he was sitting low on her thighs, Robin trailed kisses down the centre of her torso as his hands stroked from her hips to her breasts. As his hands kneaded flesh and his teeth marked her olive skin, Regina raised her hips, searching for something to rock against, something to help relieve the growing ache between her legs. But the position her bedfellow was in meant that there was nothing to provide that desperately needed friction. Regina dropped her hips back down to the mattress with a frustrated huff. Robin chuckled.

“Don’t tease,” the Queen muttered.

Robin pressed a trail of kisses down from her naval, and then stopped.

Regina sighed in irritation. “Robin. Don’t—”

“No,” the thief interrupted, “I’m in charge tonight. Remember? No more ordering from you, _your majesty._ ”

“I’m going to want to kill you before the night is out,” Regina groaned.

“That’s my goal,” snorted Robin, fully intending to make the Queen feel the exact mixture between pleasure and hatred that he had felt in the council chambers.

When Robin placed open-mouthed kisses from her right hipbone to her left, Regina sighed and squirmed, the contrast between the softness of his lips and the roughness of his beard set her nerve endings alight. Watching as he trailed soft bites up her stomach, Regina let out a sigh of disappointment as his mouth kept going in the opposite direction she needed it.

Regina couldn’t stop herself from provoking Robin with an unimpressed, “Free reign of a queen and that's all you’ve got?”

Robin responded by rolling them both, then sitting up so they were chest to chest and she was straddling him, her hands entrapped in his behind her back, instead of clinging onto the headboard. With a growl, Robin latched onto her neck and trailed sharp bites down to her collar bone, pulling on her wrists so her back arched and she was exposed to him, before he continued downwards. Sinking his teeth into several places along the swell of her breasts and soothing the harsh bites with licks and kisses, Robin felt proud at the way in which the Queen’s chest heaved at a quicker pace at his actions.

Evidently, after a while, Robin’s mouth was not enough for Regina, and she rolled her hips against his with a, “Come on, outlaw!”

All too happy to oblige—although somewhat irritated by the Queen’s lack of understanding that _he_ was supposed to be calling the shots—Robin let go of Regina’s wrists and brought his hands down onto her ass, kneading, before he started biting, nipping and sucking a bit harder at her skin until the red marks that he had made were tinged with purple.

This was too much. Far too much, and yet not nearly enough. Regina started rocking down onto Robin’s hard length, and the outlaw allowed it for a short while, before he growled and turned to the side, rolling them again until he was lying on top of her with his weight halting the movements of her hips.

Regina whimpered at the loss of friction and moved her hands back up to grip the headboard, whispering “more”, in the hopes that the outlaw would stop his torment and just get on with it already; she was so desperate.

“Was that a ‘please’?” Robin asked, in a patronising tone that he usually reserved for talking to children.

“I do _not_ say ‘please’,” scoffed Regina, her chin lifting haughtily. With her head pressed into the outlaw’s pillow and the owner of said pillow towering over her with such heat and fire in his gaze, Regina felt her body grow even hotter. 

“That’s too bad,” Robin mumbled as he moved his mouth to her ear. “Because I'm not going to let you come until you say it.”

“Orgasm denial? Really?” Regina asked, “You do realise that I could just leave and take matters into my own hands, right?”

“Well, of course you _could_ ,” Robin chuckled. “But I'm _so_ much better.”

“That's debatable,” Regina muttered, loud enough for the thief to hear. She was joking, of course; he could pleasure her far better than her own hands ever could. He merely had to look at her and she was immediately feeling very flushed and had the sudden urge to fuck him senseless. But the thief didn't need to know that, and Regina enjoyed seeing the outlaw's infinite ego deflate a little at her words, despite the dangerous fire she had ignited in his eyes.

“Well, until you say please, you're going to keep your mouth shut,” he declared.

Regina dismissed him with a laugh and let go of the headboard, placing her hands on his shoulders and starting to push him down to her side so that she could climb on top of him, but he grasped them in his own, and with a curt “no”, he turned and pulled her under him before pinning both her wrists above her head again, refusing to let her have the upper hand for a second longer.

With Robin’s hips pinning her to the mattress and her wrists in his strong grip, there was no room for the Queen to move. Robin pulled back after he had transferred both Regina’s wrists to one of his hands, using his other to grasp her chin to keep her eyes connected to his, "I don't think you fully understand, milady."

The intensity in his gaze made Regina’s stomach clench, and she drew her bottom lip into her mouth. Robin used his thumb to tug it back out, and then trailed the digit from one corner of her small smile to the other.

"The next word that makes its way past these irresistible lips of yours _will_ be ‘please’." She took his thumb into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, sucking lightly before biting at the tip, maintaining eye contact and enjoying the flash in his eyes as his control wavered. But Robin would not let himself get distracted, and he withdrew his thumb, trailing his hand down her neck to splay over her shoulder. 

"And if it's not?” Regina inquired, a perfect eyebrow raised and a sly grin on her lips.

“Well," he trailed his hand down from her shoulder and grasped a nipple with enough force that it edged on painful, yet a pleasured gasp escaped the Queen as her back arched, "I'm sure I can find more creative ways of keeping you quiet."

Regina let out a shaky breath, a witty comeback on the tip of her tongue. She was half tempted to provoke him, to see how far she could push the outlaw before he snapped, yet something inside of her was thoroughly enjoying this display of control she had temporarily allowed him.

Robin knew this, he was expecting some form of resistance from the Queen; he never expected her to relinquish any of the power that she had worked hard so for that easily. So when he saw her mouth open, an incredibly sassy retort no doubt ready to make its way past her plump lips, Robin pinched harder, quieting whatever words she was going to say to a whimper. He was determined to be the first person that Regina had relinquished control to that actually made her crave more. And Robin rarely failed when he set his mind to something.

"Is that clear, your majesty?" The outlaw drawled, trailing his hand up the valley between her breasts to drag his fingers over her collar bone as he took the nipple into his mouth.

Regina moaned as she contemplated her options for a few seconds, but finally nodded with a muttered, “Uh huh.” This unexpected, thoroughly dominant side to Robin made her more aroused than she would have liked to admit, if she'd known he would be like this after a little public teasing, she would have doubled her efforts days ago.

Robin simply smirked and said, “Good.”

Then, without preamble, Robin brought the hand that was not holding Regina’s wrists to his mouth, and licked the tips of three fingers, and then he was reaching between her legs and rubbing circles over her swollen bundle of nerves, drawing such beautiful reactions from the Queen. Robin couldn’t help but take a moment to watch and appreciate the expressions flitting over her face. 

With an overwhelming urge to moan the thief’s name, Regina bit her lip, her wrists flexing and hands pulling at the fabric they were clinging onto, in the hopes of not saying anything just yet. 

His left forearm rested against the sheets as Robin used his other hand to tease her closer to the edge; watching her eyelids flutter closed, before he placed his forehead against hers, whispering; “say ‘please’.”

Regina shook her head and lifted her chin in defiance. She wasn’t going to make this easy for the thief; if he wanted her to beg him, he was going to have to work for it, and Regina was determined to make him give up before then, anyway. She’d show him that she could still call the shots, even when she had to stay quiet.

Feeling herself climbing higher and higher, Regina sighed as warmth spread across her whole body. As she started to move her hips against his hand faster in an attempt to force him to pick up the pace so that she could reach her release, he stopped.

Regina whimpered and frowned, her eyes opening and looking at Robin, searching for the reason for him denying her the high she so desperately wanted. But he just smirked, “I told you; you’re not coming until you say ‘please’,” he explained.

Sighing in frustration Regina’s head fell back to the pillows, slightly regretting letting up the right to give verbal orders. The Queen gasped at the feeling of Robin releasing her wrists to start mouthing at the underside of her breasts before he started nipping upwards, taking an erect nipple into his mouth and sucking, then moving to the other. The alternating sensations of tongue flicking and teeth scraping over pert nubs made Regina’s right hand come down to tangle in Robin’s hair.

The thief growled as he pulled away. “You keep your hands on that headboard, Regina. No touching,” he ordered.

Sighing, Regina relented and wrapped her fingers around a pole on the headboard again. A different one than before; the wood under her palm was cool to the touch. Her other hand moved to a new spot too. The change from holding onto something lukewarm was somewhat refreshing as she was not in the position to change much else at that particular moment.

Re-entering two fingers into her, Robin swallowed the Queen’s moans into his mouth. His teeth dragged across her bottom lip before he bit down. At Regina’s groan, he smirked, pulling back and letting the swollen flesh slide through his teeth, unable to stop a groan of his own as he took in Regina’s appearance.

The faint trace of lipstick on her lips was smeared at the corner, and her lashes fluttered closed as she took her bitten lip into her mouth and let her tongue trace over the soft skin.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Robin whispered as he dropped a kiss to one corner of her mouth, and then the other as he added a third finger inside her.

Regina just barely managed to contain her shout of his name by gripping the headboard tighter and putting her own indentations into her lip. And Robin seemed to know of her struggle to keep quiet, as the next second he altered the angle his hand was thrusting at, so the heel of his palm ground down against her clit with every movement. The Queen’s back arched and a yell of “oh, god” _almost_ made its way past her lips as a wave of pleasure washed through her.

Then Robin stopped again and Regina glared at him, breathing heavily. Robin merely chuckled in response, then started to move his hand again, slowly building her back up, just so he could make her fall back down if she didn’t acquiesce to his demands. Taking a nipple into his mouth and sucking, Robin enjoyed the gasp from the woman beneath him and grinned.

“Now,” Robin started as he leaned back to look at Regina, keeping his fingers moving inside of her, “are you going to say ‘please’ this time?”

Regina whimpered, knowing that if she didn’t plead with the thief, then he would have no qualms about stopping and letting her tumble back down to earth without reaching her peak. Sighing as she actually thought about giving in to the outlaw, he stopped and withdrew his hand from her, the loss of warmth and the sudden emptiness left her choking back a sob.

“You are so stubborn,” Robin growled as he moved his right hand to rest beside the Queen’s head on his white pillow splayed with raven hair. “So _damn_ stubborn.”

Bringing his left hand down to her thigh, Robin traced a line down her skin until his hand was cupping behind her knee. Even the sensation of his rough bandage rubbing over her leg had Regina squirming underneath the thief, and when he raised it to his waist and thrust his hips forward so he rubbed against her, Regina couldn’t stop herself bucking her hips into him, drawing a groan of her name from his lips.

Regina couldn’t help but feel jealous at him being able to call out her name like that, when she was stuck with moans and sighs. Whimpering, she tightened her leg around him and rolled her hips up against him again, in a silent demand. When he lined himself up and easily slid inside her, Regina let out a barely audible, “oh, god.”

If Robin heard it, he didn’t comment, choosing to draw his hips back and then thrust forward with enough force that Regina’s head moved up a few inches closer to the headboard. When he did it again, Regina turned her head and bit into the pillow, breathing harshly through her nose. After one more deep thrust, Robin started setting up a slow, grinding rhythm, with Regina gasping every time Robin’s pelvis ground against her clit.

And then the outlaw started moving in earnest, hitting a spot deep inside her that had Regina throwing her head back, leaving the column of her neck exposed as she tried to take in deep breaths through gritted teeth.

"Say it, Regina,” Robin growled into her ear, “or I'll stop."

Once again, Regina defiantly kept her mouth shut, regardless of every fibre of her being screaming out to her to just _give in_. Robin pounded into her quicker, his hips snapping to hers, his fingers digging into her flesh and his mouth lowering to taste whatever part of the Queen’s skin was within reach.

“Regina,” he warned, biting at the shell of her ear, then her pulse point, then her collar bone.

But Regina paid no heed and let out a sigh instead of the plea that the thief wanted.

When Robin followed up on his threat and stopped, Regina groaned.

“If you’d just say please we would not have this problem,” Robin advised, his breaths coming out in soft pants, not as unaffected by his constant stopping as he appeared to be.

She would have to give in soon. If she didn’t, Robin would certainly make her. He knew he couldn’t last the whole night out, but knowing Regina, she would hold out on him for hours simply to prove a point.

Damn woman.

When Robin removed her right knee from his waist and pushed it upward so it was touching her shoulder, the new angle forced a breathy moan of “Robin” before Regina could stop herself. Robin heard her that time. He stopped and leaned forward—forcing her leg even higher—to growl into her ear. “Bite your tongue, Regina. Or I’ll bite it for you.”

On the first of Robin’s resumed thrusts, Regina bit her lip to keep herself from shouting out. On the tenth, she turned her head and bit into the thief’s pillow again, muffling a yell. On the twentieth, Regina was closer towards to the edge than she had been the whole evening.

Then she heard Robin order her to “say ‘please’”again _._

 _No, no, no, no._ If he stopped this time, she was going to kill him. The thought of murder actually became a viable option for a split second, but then he hit that spot inside of her again and she could not fathom why she ever wanted of get rid of him in the first place.

"Say ‘please’, Regina," Robin demanded. “Say it, or I’ll stop again.”

In all honesty, Robin wasn't sure he would be able to stop this time; his self-control was faltering at an alarming rate, he just prayed that the Queen's resolve faltered first. He watched as her eyes scrunched closed, as her fingernails dug into her palms. Robin needed to hear her. He needed to hear her beg him; this could be the only night she'd let him do this, and he needed to have something to remember this glorious moment by for the rest of his life.

Regina could feel her orgasm fast approaching; the tightening in her core, the shortness of breath, the tensing of muscles. A few more moments and she'd be over the edge. She heard him say her name again, and damn it if it didn't sound like a warning. She could not let him stop now; not when she was so close. So very, _very_ close.

Finally letting go, Regina let the thief win; breathing "please" into his ear.

Robin grinned and slowed down just a little, on one part to see how desperate the Queen actually was, and another to try not to empty himself within her at her whisper.

"Please, Robin!” Regina whimpered, “Oh, god. Please, don't stop… don't _ever_ stop..."

After a moment he obeyed her; with a mocking, “Now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it?” His hips moved in a frenzied rhythm that was nothing like the slow grind he had started with.

Now finally able to voice her pleasure, the room was filled with Regina’s moans and shouts as she clawed at his back, her thigh slipping against his side and her head thrown back into the pillows.

Regina came with Robin’s name on her lips, and the thief grunted into her neck, finding his own release just seconds later, before collapsing to the side of her, completely spent.

“Wow,” Robin breathed after a few very long moments, running a hand through his damp hair. “Are you alright?”

Regina tried to say something, anything, but the most she could manage was a breathy, “Uh huh.”

Robin chuckled smugly, “I doubt George would make you speechless like that.”

Finding her words again, Regina rolled her eyes. “Oh, shut up about that, Robin. It’s not attractive.”

“Sorry,” Robin turned on his side to face Regina, “But he wouldn’t, though, would he? I mean—”

“Robin, I don’t care,” Regina confessed. “I’m not sleeping with George; I’m sleeping with you.”

“Well, to be honest, there has not really been any sleeping involved, Regina.”

Regina let out a laugh and agreed, opening her eyes and staring at the ceiling, taking in measured breaths as her heart continued to pound in her chest.

There was silence for a moment. “Will there be?” asked Robin quietly.

Regina turned her head to her right to see an earnest look on Robin’s face. So, apparently they were having that boundaries discussion now.

The thought of waking alongside the thief—although not entirely unpleasant—seemed far too intimate for Regina. And obviously should he leave her room— or she leave his—at a time where people were wandering the castle, there would be a lot of explaining to do.

“Robin, I don’t really care what time either of us leave, as long as it’s before sunrise and we don’t get caught,” Regina stated.

“Right,” agreed Robin.

“But I’m not a cuddler, so don’t even think about it,” she warned, quickly glancing in his direction.

“Got it,” Robin acknowledged. “Anything else?”

Regina sighed as she turned onto her side to face him, the conversation turning a bit more serious.

“ _This_ is not a relationship; it’s just a distraction. If, at any point, it becomes more than what it should be… It ends. I cannot be dealing with feelings.” She spat out the word “feelings” as if it had personally offended her, though from what he had heard, perhaps that wasn’t too far from the truth.

Robin could understand where Regina’s thoughts were. It was clear that she was hurting; every so often he would catch her staring at nothing with a forlorn expression. Sometimes, he knew that Regina did not wish to talk to anyone and he stayed back, and other times, when the Queen looked less likely to murder the first person to speak to her, he would make his way over – but she was usually pulled away for some reason before he could reach her.

But honestly, Robin wasn’t entirely sure he wanted anything more than a distraction either. Having avoided all forms of commitment since his beloved wife passed away, Robin didn’t feel that he needed more than what she was offering. Unwilling to have his heart broken again, Robin agreed to the Queen’s rule of no emotions. It was the safe option.

“And if either of us wants this to end for any other reason, we say so and we stop. No questions asked,” Regina added.

“Seems reasonable,” Robin said, frowning at Regina tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear just before he could reach over and do it himself. “These rules tend to come in threes, what’s your next one?”

“Discretion,” Regina stated. “This remains between us.”

“Of course,” Robin replied immediately. Then, he started musing aloud. “Although, I’m sure I’d be a hero amongst my men if—”

Regina thumped him on his arm. Surprisingly hard. Robin winced and rubbed the sore muscle.

“I was only saying, my men usually share details like this. ‘Talk between men’ and all that. And if they found out about this—which they won’t—then they’d give me a pat on the back.” Robin chuckled before looking back to her.

Regina let out a displeased sigh as she moved to get out of the thief’s bed. He didn’t let her get far, wrapping his arms around her and pulling until her back was against his chest. “I won’t tell them, Regina,” he said seriously, as he dropped a kiss to her shoulder, “I promise you.”

Sighing, Regina turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, curiously. “What if your Men ask?”

“Then I’d lie,” he responded without much thought.

“Don’t lie for me, Robin,” Regina sighed, “I don’t want you to jeopardise your friendships because of this.”

“Well, I’m hardly going to tell them any more than you’re going to tell Snow,” Robin laughed as Regina’s eyes widened comically and she shook her head at the mere thought.

“Well, then,” he leaned forward for a chaste kiss, but pulled back when a thought occurred to him. “What if Snow asks _you_ about us?”

“Snow’s easy to placate,” Regina said, waving her hand in the air as if mentally batting her away. “I can give little hints that’ll satisfy her, but won’t suggest anything to do with you.”

Robin’s brows furrowed. “So, if it’s necessary, we can discuss _this_ , just not _us._ ”

Regina took a second to think the terminology over before replying. “Yes.”

“Alright,” he said.

“Your turn,” Regina said, turning onto her stomach and laying her head on crossed arms to look at Robin, the arm he had wrapped around her retreated so his hand could trace patterns on her bare back. “Come on, Robin. I’m not sorting this all out by myself.”

It was a few quiet moments where Robin thought over any potential rules. But then he declared, “My son comes first.”

“Obviously,” Regina responded, confused as to why anyone would think otherwise.

“So, there may be some nights where I’m not available,” Robin clarified.

“Robin, I’m not going drag you into bed every night,” Regina chuckled. “It’s just something every once in a while.”

“A little more than ‘once in a while’,” Robin said as he pushed Regina back onto her side and aligned his body with hers.

Regina smiled as she brought her left hand to play with the bandaging on his wrist, smoothing the frayed edges, as she seemed to have gotten too caught up in the moment to pay any attention to his injuries earlier. “Robin—”

“That’s a rule; this happens more than ‘once in a while’.” Robin nuzzled her neck, trailing his hands up and down her back. “After what just happened, I doubt I’d be able to stay away for too long anyway.”

When he reached a sensitive spot on her neck, he sucked and nibbled until the area was red and the Queen was gasping, “I doubt you would be able to either, your majesty.”

“You’re an arrogant prick,” Regina mumbled.

“Are you disagreeing?” he murmured lowly, trailing a hand up her thigh.

Regina breathed “no” before she could even process it.

“Well, then…”

Regina raised her hands to grasp Robin’s hair and crash his lips onto hers, forcing him to lie on top of her. Raking her nails across his scalp, Regina dragged Robin’s bottom lip away with her teeth before pushing her tongue through the gap she’d created.

At the feeling of Regina sucking his tongue into her mouth, then scraping her teeth along it when he took it back, Robin felt himself start to harden against Regina’s thigh.

Regina broke away from their kiss and looked down between them and then back up to Robin with an amused smile and a raised eyebrow, “Already?”

“What can I say, milady?” Robin grinned as he ground his hips into Regina’s, “I’m a man of stamina.”

Pushing Robin onto his back and allowing herself to be pulled with him, Regina brought her legs up either side so her bent knees were at his waist. Leaning over him, her fists clenching in the pillow on either side of his head and her long hair forming a curtain between them and the outside world, Regina smiled and declared; “Well, this is going to be fun.”

“You’re insatiable,” Robin chuckled, bringing his hands up to rest on her hips.

“Apparently, I’m not the only one,” She teased with a roll of her hips.

“I’ll wear you out before the night is over,” Robin warned, and Regina’s eyes seemed to brighten at the idea.

Leaning forward to trace her tongue over the shell of his ear, Regina lowered her voice and taunted, “I’d like to see you try.”

“Famous last words,” Robin teased as he rolled them back over so he was on top. “You promised me that I was in control tonight.”

“Did I?” Regina asked, although clearly knowing the answer. “You’d better get to work then.”

“My pleasure,” Robin responded before grasping her chin and tilting it upwards, grinning as his mouth descended to lay a trail of wet kisses across her jawline as his hand trailed down her front again.

As the night went on, Regina found it was her pleasure, too. The thief used the control she had given him and… well, _both_ of them had ended up sweaty and thoroughly sated. Their limbs were limp from exertion and their voices were hoarse from the groans, shouts and yells that the other had drawn from them.

Robin had been right. Before, she hadn’t had the right person ordering her. Now, she did.

And if Robin wanted to do this again?

Well, Regina wouldn’t complain.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so a few notices.
> 
> Firstly; I was honestly so overwhelmed with the response I got from the last couple of chapters. So I want to thank every single person who has reviewed, or has just dropped me a message (or even asked a question because I love answering questions :D) because you are all awesome and I love you so very much.
> 
> Secondly; an even bigger thanks to Mickaela, Isabela and Sammy, the latter of which had no clue as to what was coming up in the chapter so it was a big shock when she beta’d it for me.
> 
> Thirdly; As I mentioned I got lots of treasured feedback from the last couple of chapters explaining how people love the smut and Robin and Regina are so amazing and people tend to chuckle at some parts in which I aim to be humorous. And I sincerely apologise because this chapter is where the plot stuff comes in (because just smut – whilst pleasant – does not make a very interesting story), and it’s kind of painful. But rest assured it will get better and I am sincerely trying to make sure that the next chapter will not take too long because I’m not evil enough to keep you waiting for a fortnight :)
> 
> Lastly; this chapter has a little Elvish in it (I know it’s not a real language but I stumbled across some elvish spells and I could not resist), so the spells are sort of explained in the chapter but there’s also a translation at the end if you need it.
> 
> xXx

Regina awoke in her own bed, rays of sunlight warming her face. She had magically transported herself into the room in the early hours of the morning when Robin had—finally—worn them both out, and she had climbed straight into bed.

Unable to stop the satisfied smile that was slowly spreading over her face, Regina turned onto her back, outstretching her arms and arching her back in a much needed stretch to awaken her pleasantly aching muscles.

Walking over to her wardrobe, Regina passed a hand over all the extravagant dresses that hung there, trailing over the soft fabric until she reached her collection of bodices and long coats. She knew the thief liked her regal outfits; he didn’t exactly hide it, what with his eyes raking over her from head to toe when he thought she wasn’t looking. Even before they had started their “distracting” arrangement, she would catch the thief stealing glances at the low neckline of her dresses, or looking her up and down—lingering on her rear—when she wore her flattering, velvet gowns. But the outlaw practically salivated at her tight corsets and tighter trousers, and Regina had made it her mission to, as often as possible, send him into a frustrated mess with sultry glances and strategic hip-swaying and arm-crossing to enhance her assets.

And now, she could tease him all she liked, knowing she would enjoy whatever retaliation he could come up with.

After pulling a long, navy coat with gold stitching, a black, V neck over-bust corset and low-rise leather trousers out from her closet, Regina put all the clothes over her arm and smiled as she walked over to her washroom, preparing her plans for the day ahead.

The outlaw had no idea what he had gotten himself into.

…

The unsuspecting outlaw made his way down the stone spiral staircase towards the general council chamber, his thoughts occupied by the Queen—a fact that was no longer a surprise to Robin; she had been the only person to inhabit his mind as of late.

He turned a corner and saw her—form fitting clothes temporarily halting his heart, breathing and walking pace until he swiftly recovered and continued on as if nothing had happened.

Robin couldn’t stop a grin from appearing on his face, and when Regina noticed him and the same smile graced her lips, his grin grew even wider.

He made his way toward her, and if his feet moved more quickly than they had earlier, it wasn’t a conscious decision. But before he could pull her into his arms, she held out a single finger—on the hand not holding books to her chest—as an order to wait. “Before you start anything, I am on my way to a meeting,” said Regina.

“As it happens, so am I,” Robin said as he brought his hand up to wrap around hers, and pulling it towards his chest. “How about that?”

Regina smiled in reply, letting her eyes roam his handsome features before admiring his physique. She could still remember him without the forest-green clothing and she bit her lip when flashbacks took hold.

When her eyes returned to his, the thief was looking at her with a knowing smirk on his lips and Regina couldn’t stop a blush from reaching her cheeks.

“So, I wonder who’s going to be sitting beside you,” teased Robin, raking his eyes over her figure and grinning at her outfit. He loved the ensemble, and navy looked good on her. It was exactly what he had wanted for the next meeting they would attend together; easy access.

Regina read his intentions clearly, raising an eyebrow as she asked, “Last night wasn’t enough for you?”

“Not nearly,” he growled, stepping forward and taking the three books that were tucked into her elbow and dropping them to the floor. The thief tugged the Queen closer and laughed at her expression of slight frustration.

Regina looked from Robin to the books and then back again. “Those books are important.”

“They’ll be fine,” he dismissed with a chuckle. “This is _far_ more important, anyway.”

“Oh, is it now?” Regina asked, her stern tone somewhat compromised by her smile and the light in her eyes.

Robin hummed in agreement; his stunning, blue eyes met her expressive, brown ones.

For a few short moments they stared at each other, until Regina bit her lip with a chuckle and leaned forward to kiss the outlaw.

It wasn’t long before Regina pulled away. She patted Robin’s chest to remind him—and herself—that they had a meeting to get to. Robin groaned and dropped his head onto her shoulder, before tilting his neck so he could plant a row of kisses up her neck. The outlaw chose to ignore Regina’s protests.

“Robin, as much as I would love to stay here and do this with you—” She was interrupted by her own gasp as the outlaw bit at the soft skin of her neck, “We really need to get going; this meeting is actually—ah—fairly important.”

"Just a few minutes," he mumbled as he took the lobe of Regina's ear between his teeth and tugged on it.

Regina gasped again as her hand came up to grasp at the loose sleeves of his shirt. She tried to turn her head to capture the outlaw’s lips with her own, but he raised a hand to her chin and turned her jaw away from him, mouthing at the exposed, taut skin.

“You know,” Regina started, “this should be some sort of rule, too.”

Robin hummed into her neck in question, his hands trailing down to grab her ass and mould her body into his.

“No sex in corridors,” Regina stated as she unconsciously ground her hips forward.

“This isn’t sex,” Robin pointed out, dipping his tongue into the hollow of her clavicle.

“It will be soon, if you keep that up,” Regina moaned.

There was a reason why she couldn't take the thief into the nearest bedroom and repeat last night’s activities; Regina was sure there was. But Robin left a trail of open mouthed kisses along her chest and all reasoning escaped her.

“I can’t concentrate, Robin.”

“Maybe that’s the idea,” he drawled as his grip tightened on her rear.

“You’re an ass,” scoffed Regina.

“You love my ass," Robin retorted, "I have the nail marks to prove it.”

Regina chuckled and finally worked up enough willpower to push the outlaw away. “Perhaps I’ll add some more,” she said suggestively, “after the meeting.”

"Is that a promise?" Robin asked, eyebrows raised.

"Yes," Regina whispered with a wink. "Well, that's assuming that the meeting goes as planned,"

“Well, " Robin began, momentarily losing track of his sentence as Regina bent to pick up her books from the floor.  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

…

“We’re concerned,” Snow started, “We haven’t heard from Zelena in a while.”

Robin nodded in understanding, “You’re worried she’s planning something?”

“Yes,” agreed the princess.

“So, Regina?” Charming asked as he turned in his seat to face her. “Do you have anything that could help if she tries anything?”

Regina didn’t get past the word “there” before she was interrupted.

“Seriously? We’re asking _her_ for help?” shouted the angry voice of a dwarf.

At fives glares sent his way, Grumpy sank back in his seat with a huff.

“There are a few possibilities,” Regina said, sending another swift glare at the dwarf. “First, there is a pendant, which would let one control Zelena’s simian army. It would stop any more attacks and prevent any more deaths—on their behalf anyway.”

From the tone of Regina’s voice, Snow knew that there was a drawback to this idea. “But?”

“But,” Regina took a breath, “the wearer of the pendent would turn into one of Zelena’s flying monkeys. Permanently.”

“So that’s a ‘no’,” Snow mumbled.

Regina inclined her head. “Unless we can find someone willing to—”

“No offense, sister, but who the hell is going to want to turn into a zoo exhibit?” Grumpy asked, crossing his arms and leaning forward onto the table.

“I could volunteer you, if you’re going to keep interrupting me all the time,” Regina snapped.

“Guys, please,” Charming said, a palm out to both of them in an attempt to quell the battle of wits before it became severe. “You said there were several options, Regina; what’s the next one?”

Regina placed her hand on the thinner of the three books she had brought in, her long nails tapping on the black cover. “Zelena and I are sisters—”

Grumpy scoffed. “No shit.”

Regina glared at him. With a roll of her eyes, she continued, “There is an incantation which could link us. Physically and emotionally. Everything she’d feel, I would feel. Everything I’d feel, she would.” Regina’s gaze turned down to her book and her voice turned serious, “If she destroyed me, she’d be destroying herself.”

“But that would work both ways,” Snow quietly pointed out.

Regina slowly nodded, and then heard a protest of “no” from either side of her.

She looked to Snow, then Robin, and then Snow again. “Look, if it means that—”

“It’s not happening,” Snow declared.

“Well, I’m not that adverse to the idea,” Grumpy contributed unhelpfully.

Robin’s fists clenched and he sent a deathly glare in Grumpy’s direction. Frightened, the dwarf muttered a sheepish “joking”—adding “ish” under his breath to save face.

“What’s the third idea?” Charming asked.

Regina sighed, “I still think the second could—”

“ _That_ ,” Robin firmly stated, “is _not_ an option.”

Regina turned to look at him and couldn’t stop herself from feeling irritated at the way he made decisions on her behalf. “I don’t really see how you have any right to tell me what I can and cannot do; this is my life, _thief_. I can do what I want with it.”

“What’s the third option?” Robin inquired, not breaking his gaze from hers.

Regina rolled her eyes, “Robin—”

“Third option, your majesty; what is it?” Robin practically demanded. His stern voice quelling Regina’s retorts until she was positively fuming at the man, a scowl on her face, nostrils flaring and her hands clenching in her long navy coat.

Turning her glare to the wall opposite her, Regina took a deep breath and waited until she was calm enough to continue.

Still trying to push down the urge to throttle the thief beside her, Regina pulled a heavy, leather covered journal toward her and opened it halfway before flicking backwards a few pages.

“There’s mention of a mythical being,” she began, “A creature more powerful than an army, that is incapable of being stopped once their sights are set on something.”

“What’s it called?” Ruby asked.

“The Jabberwocky,” answered Regina.

The people at the table looked at each other for a while, trying to recall any mention of the creature they had heard. No one could come up with anything.

“I’m sensing this one isn’t exactly a basket of sunshine, either,” Granny predicted.

“No, it’s not,” Regina admitted. “This…creature—if we even find it—is difficult to control.” Regina looked back down at the book, tracing her finger over text Robin hadn’t understood when he had glanced over at it. “Legend states the ‘vorpal blade’ is the only means of controlling her.”

“’Her’?” Grumpy asked, his gruff voice full of scepticism.

Regina looked back up at the dwarf and snapped at the look of disbelief on his face. “Yes, you misogynistic ass; women are capable of being legendary weapons of mass destruction.”

“Well yes, we learned that from you, your majesty,” Grumpy retorted, proud when he saw the Queen’s temper flare.

If Robin hadn’t put a hand on her thigh, Regina would have probably stood and roasted Grumpy’s snarky ass. But as it was, Robin knew the dwarf was just riling her up and decided to try and subdue the Queen’s impulses before she retaliated in kind. It seemed to work, if only a minute amount.

“Tell us more about this Jabberwocky,” Robin suggested.

Regina inhaled, exhaled, and then inhaled again before responding. “The Jabberwocky is said to be in Wonderland, which is…difficult to get to and even more difficult to navigate.”

“Have you been there before?” Robin asked.

“A few times,” Regina responded, before quietly adding; “A long time ago.”

“What for?” Ruby asked, her head tilting to the side as her brows drew together.

“It doesn’t matter,” snapped Regina defensively, “I don’t even know who’s ruling there now.”

“Well, who was ruling the last time you went?” Granny inquired.

Regina’s back stiffened, “The Queen of Hearts. She’s no longer there.”

“Are you certain?” Robin asked from beside her.

“Yes,” she sniped, sending a glare at Snow before her features softened and she started musing aloud. “The Red Queen’s reign had just started when I first went, but that was a while ago; only a year or so after I married the King.”

An expression crossed Snow’s face, a mixture between confusion and offense. “You went to Wonderland so soon after marrying my father?”

“I went many places, Snow,” Regina sneered. “It’s not as if either of you were around to miss me.”

“That’s not fair,” Snow indignantly exclaimed.

“No, it wasn’t,” Regina replied, her harsh voice suddenly turning quiet and honest mid-sentence.

Snow withdrew into her seat, looking at the woman that was meant to be her step-mother with a sorrowful gaze.

Before she could offer anything in the way of an apology, Charming spoke up, aiming to ease some of the tension befalling the room. “Regina. How did you get to Wonderland before?”

Regina’s eyes flashed, her long and complicated history with Jefferson running through her mind. “It doesn’t matter. I kind of… burned my bridges there.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Grumpy muttered.

The Queen felt somewhat proud of herself when she let that comment slide by, although  the fantasy of tying him to his chair and setting it on fire soothed her temper somewhat.

“So… how could _we_ get there?” Red asked, placing her hands on the table and looking between Snow and Regina.

“I don’t know,” Regina said. “It’s not easy to travel between realms; Jefferson is the only person I know of who possesses a portal jumping hat, and portals themselves are incredibly difficult to come by, as we all know.”

“So, can we ask Jefferson?” Snow asked.

Regina shook her head, “He’s… not going to help us.”

“Not going to help _us_? Or not going to help _you_?” Granny asked, folding her arms and glaring over the rim of her glasses.

There was a moment of silence before Regina answered, “I doubt he’ll help anyone anymore.”

“So we’ll just…find another way,” Charming decreed.

Regina opened her mouth to argue that you couldn’t _just_ _find_ a way to another realm, but Robin leaned forward to whisper in her ear, “Leave it, we can sort the rest out some other day.”

Turning to look at the thief, somewhat annoyed that he still seemed to think that he could make decisions for her, Regina was surprised to see his earnest expression.

“If you carry on,” Robin quietly continued, “They’re going to say something stupid, and you’re going to kill them.”

With a sigh, Regina sat back in her seat and resigned herself to watching the meeting proceed, making comments occasionally but not rising to any bait from the dwarf or the widow, and ignoring all ideas from the Charmings that displayed their lack of intelligence on the topic of magic—which was fairly frequently, as they knew nothing of the subject.

Regina was comforted by the hand Robin had placed on her leg, his thumb tracing small patterns over her kneecap whenever he felt her temper flare.

It was a good quarter of an hour before their discussion drew to a close, and the group made to separate and carry on with the day.

“Wait,” Snow called out, halting everyone’s movements. Grumpy was half out of his chair, Ruby was in the process of fastening her cloak and Robin was slowly sliding his hand back onto his lap.

As they returned to where they were, Snow went into a small bag she had placed at her side at the beginning of the meeting, pulling out an emerald pendant and laying it on the table in front of her.

“Regina, is this yours?” she asked.

Regina looked down at the pendant, trying to recall having possessed it. An oval cut emerald, half the size of her palm, was embedded in a ring of gold etched with a crosshatch pattern. The gold curb chain the jewel hung from was as thick around as her little finger, and just from looking at it, it was easy to see this was a very heavy accessory.

Despite its beauty and obvious steep value, Regina had never seen the pendant before and told Snow as much. Granny pulled the necklace over to her, mumbling something about how many mythical beings she’d fight to own something like it. Regina felt an unusual tug on her magic, and when she looked directly at the green jewel the tug grew stronger, uncomfortable.

“It’s Zelena’s.”

The table went quiet at the Queen’s declaration, all heads turning to stare at her.  Regina stood and reached out for the necklace, wondering what Zelena had done to it to make it react to her magic as it had. When her fingers brushed the chain—for a split second, before Granny moved it out of her reach—Regina got her answer.

“What is it?” Charming asked, his hand resting over his wife’s on the table.

“It’s a pendant,” Regina started, before she could elaborate, Grumpy interrupted her.

“Is it going to kill us?”

“No. No one is dying,” Regina answered, sending a glare to Grumpy and adding “unfortunately”.

Ruby sat back in her seat, leaning toward her grandmother slightly. “So it’s not dangerous?”

“I never said that.”

“What’s it for?” Regina heard Robin ask.

“It’s enchanted, to act as a messaging service of sorts. Like a magic voicemail.”

Grumpy looked at the pendant as if it was going to sprout a head, warily asking, “How do we listen to it?”

 “You hold it,” said Regina simply.

“But I’ve held it,” Snow pointed out. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Granny gruffly added, “Nor me.”

“That’s because the message wasn’t intended for you,” Regina held her hand out, palm up, silently demanding the necklace be handed over to her.

Reluctantly, Granny let her have the pendant. The group watched as Regina stood straight, holding the hand clasping the pendant over her stomach, her left hand resting on the table.

The first thing Regina heard was Zelena’s overly saccharine voice. _“Hello, sis. Long time, no see. I’ve missed you. Let’s meet up for a chat, say midnight tonight, at the Broomfield Tree?”_

Regina frowned, her eyes suspiciously narrowing at her sister’s request, before Zelena’s disembodied voice began again. _“Now, I know what you’re going to say; ‘_ why would I want to do that, Zelena? _’ Well, what have you got to lose?”_

The grip Regina had on the pendent increased. “ _See I’ve been doing a little digging. And you’ve already lost an awful lot; your childhood best friend, your true love, your father, our mother and, of course, your precious son. Oh, and you lost yourself. To the darkness, and the pain, and the suffering._

_“Because that’s what happens. That’s what always happens. Because that’s just who you are, Regina. And that’s who you’ll always be; the Evil Queen. You may try to be good, you may try to do the right thing, but in the end… what use is it? What has it got you? Nothing.”_

Regina drew her lips into a tight line, attempting to keep her emotions at bay and not showing any sign of weakness in front of the group staring at her.  It would not do to have them know the effect Zelena’s words had on her.

_“And yet… what has it cost you, Regina?”_ Zelena’s answer to her own question was spoken as if directly into Regina’s ear. A mocking whisper of _“everything_ ” that made Regina visibly flinch as her eyes gathered moisture as “everything” ran through her mind.

_“Although,”_ Zelena started, her voice full of mock respect. “ _I must admit, for a woman who has killed and destroyed and ruined lives… look around you! You still have people who care about you.”_

_“Which means,”_ Zelena’s tone changed from cheery into harsh after a short cackle, _“you still have people who can get hurt because of you. I wonder how long it will take for your toxic love to destroy them. It doesn’t usually take long does it? What do you think, sis?”_

Regina blinked and a traitorous tear made its way down her cheek before she could stop it.

Zelena’s inhale was loud enough to hear and Regina gripped the pendant tighter _, “Now then, if you want to keep these people safe…well, you know how sacrifice works, right?”_

Regina heard a chuckle in her ear and turned her head away, despite knowing it wouldn’t help; Zelena had set up the message to make her physically uncomfortable, as well as emotionally. And it was working; she was Cora’s daughter through and through.

Snow and Charming looked between them, torn between the need to explore their link with Zelena and to stop Regina’s suffering. Robin wasn’t faring any better; one more tear falling from the eyes of his Queen and he would rip the necklace out of her hand and do everything in his power to destroy it. The sight of Regina in pain made his heart ache, and if her free hand hadn’t been gripping the table, he would have taken it into his own in offer of whatever comfort he could muster.

But it wouldn’t have helped; Zelena knew Regina. And from the content of her taunting, she knew her weaknesses, her fears, her deepest thoughts. And as Cora had taught her; once you knew someone, it was a hell of a lot easier to destroy them. A lesson Zelena was reiterating.

_“Oh, I’m not asking you to sacrifice your life.”_ Zelena added. _“Just a bit of your time. Surely you can fit me in between boring meetings and_ exciting _dalliances.”_

The threat was as clear as day; Zelena would hurt those she cared about, unless she acquiesced to her sister’s demands. It seemed as if she had a midnight walk planned tonight after all.

Zelena’s threatening voice filtered its way into Regina’s mind again, _“And if you don’t? Well…”_

Regina’s world went dark, faces fading away as her surroundings changed, the bright chamber replaced with a dark, empty jail cell. The recognisable stench of dungeons invaded her senses, and the gloomy atmosphere that came with a place known for death surrounded her. If Regina couldn’t still feel the table under her hand, she would have believed she was really there.

In the blink of an eye the scene changed; she was still in the dungeon, but she was not alone.

To her left, Snow and Charming were lying on the floor, bloodied and still as their hands slowly reached out to each other before they took their last breath. Their fingers touched, and then their life faded away, leaving dull eyes open and staring.

To her right, Roland was sobbing over his father’s lifeless body, his hands clutching at his papa’s scarf and shouting at him to wake up; but his words were simply not enough to reverse the poison’s effect. The doors flung open and Zelena walked in, a wicked smile on her face aimed directly at Regina, before a mere flick of her wrist made the young boy’s neck twist with a snap and he collapsed forward.

The four people in the castle that Regina cared for… dead.

And she could do nothing but stand and watch it.

As the view of council chamber returned with Zelena cackling in her ear, Regina’s legs gave way and she fell into the chair behind her, gasping as a few tears rolled down her cheeks. Nevertheless, she tried to keep her guard up, regardless of the emotional torment Zelena was putting her through; she had to keep some semblance of control in front of the others.

Because that would not happen. That would never happen. It just couldn’t.

_“The choice is clear Regina; face me or pay the consequences. Can you poor heart bear the loss of yet another loved one?”_ Regina choked back a small sob before Zelena added a quick _“See you soon, sis.”_

Regina’s hand suddenly dropped the pendant and it fell with a clatter onto dark wood, four crescent shape indents on the heel of her palm where her nails had dug into her skin. The green jewel had disappeared and there were only wisps of green smoke and a burn pattern on Regina’s palm to show any trace of it ever actually having been there.

“Regina?” Snow asked, her hand on the table, outstretching toward the Queen.

The Queen’s thoughts were too scattered to even think about forming a reply just yet.

She was to go and meet her sister—her half-sister. The very one who had outwardly admitted that she wanted to take everything away from her, destroying her in the process. It was very likely that she’d be walking right into a very dangerous witch fight.

Yet if she didn’t go, the people she cared about would die. And Regina knew that Zelena would follow through on her threat. It wasn’t too long ago that Regina would have done the exact same thing herself.

But that was her past, and she had made a vow to her son—and to herself—to be a better person. And Regina absolutely refused to let anyone else get hurt because of her.

She’d die first.

Snow’s soft voice reached her ears again. “Regina, are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she lied, swallowing the lump in her throat and trying to wipe away the tears that had betrayed her and had trailed from her eyes.

Looking around there was a multitude of expressions aimed her way; Grumpy’s unimpressed scowl, Red’s wary head tilt, Granny’s mouth set in a grim line, Charming’s concerned frown, Snow’s eyes shining with tears, and Robin…

Robin was looking at her as if it had been _him_ being taunted with death threats, as if it was he who may be walking to his end that very night. Pain was etched into his features, like his emotions echoed hers. And Regina’s heart hurt even more.

“Regina,” Charming called sternly to snap her gaze away from Robin’s, then his voice turned soothing and gentle when he asked, “What did she say?”

She couldn’t tell them. Snow, Charming, the others; they’d want to help. They’d want to go with her and try to protect her. But if Zelena wanted to use them against her, they weren’t going within twenty feet of this Wicked Witch.

“It was just a warning,” Regina replied, it wasn’t that far from the truth, she supposed.

“Looked a bit more than ‘just a warning’ to me,” Granny observed, her words somewhat softer than the usually harsh tone that she used when talking to the Queen.

Regina inhaled through her nose, holding the breath for a short while before releasing it. “It was just… her plans.”

“Which were?” Charming asked.

“It doesn’t matter; it’s not going to happen,” Regina declared.

Snow—being the curious person that she was—wanted to ask for more details, “Regina—”

“It’s not going to happen,” she repeated, her determination evident in every single word.

“So,” Charming started, “what’s _our_ plan?”

Regina cleared her throat. “What plan?”

“Our plan to kill this bitch,” Grumpy answered.

Snow turned to the dwarf with a look of outrage, “Grumpy!” she exclaimed.

Regina paid no heed to Snow’s disapproval of her friend’s enthusiasm to destroy Zelena—in fact, she was terribly tempted to let the dwarf go and find her himself.

Quickly running through options in her head, she declared, “I’m going to spend some time in the library, researching anything that could destroy her.”

Snow gaped at Regina in shock, “‘Destroy her’?”

“Did I stutter?” Regina snapped.

Snow shrank back in her seat, obviously still disheartened whenever at the receiving end of her step-mother’s wrath.

Regina stood from her seat. “I’ll be in the West Wing Library, I do not wish to be disturbed.”

“Will you need anything?” Charming asked.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Snow asked. “I mean we could—”

“I said no.”

Robin pushed his chair back and made his way over to Regina. “Here, I’ll come with you and help.”

“I don’t need help,” she snapped, turning to Robin and creating a mask of disdain to avoid telling him everything at the concerned look in his eyes. “And especially not from a thief like you.”

Turning, Regina left, raising a hand and manipulating the doors to sweep closed behind her.

…

Regina stood in front of the wooden door, hearing animated chatter from behind it, and second-guessed herself. Was it really her place to do this? Probably not. Was she going to do it anyway? Yes.

Taking a deep breath her hand came up and knocked. The chatter died down instantly and there was the sound of footsteps approaching.

The door opened to reveal Will Stutely, whose merry expression promptly turned to confused.

“Um, Robin’s not here, your majesty,” said Will with furrowed brows.

“No, I know. I…” Regina paused and inhaled, releasing it in a small sigh. “I need you to do something for me.”

Will’s expression turned serious. “I’m sorry, your majesty, but the Merry Men don’t deal with magic. At all.”

“I know. I know. It’s nothing like that,” Regina reassured with her palms out.

George stuck his head around the side of the door, curious when he had heard Regina’s voice and even more curious when her heard Will’s statement about magic.

“Regina? What’s the matter?” he asked, moving to stand tall beside his older friend.

“I need a favour,” she confessed.

George nodded. “Alright. What is it?”

Regina hesitated, “I need you to keep an eye on Robin.”

Will’s exclamation of “what?” was said at the same time as George’s gentler “why?”

“Something has come up, that I need to sort out. And knowing Robin, he’ll want to help, but if he gets caught up in this, he’s going to get hurt and… and I don’t want that.” Quickly covering her emotions at the thought of Robin getting hurt, she added, “and I don’t think you do either.”

The emphatic “no” from both the Merry Men put Regina a little more at ease.

“So, will you just make sure he stays in the castle?” Regina asked. “Just for tonight?”

Will hesitated, a little wary about going behind his leader’s back, but George instantly replied “of course”.

With an awkward smile, Regina thanked them both, then started to walk back toward the library. George took a step into the corridor and called out to her.

When she had turned to face him, George sincerely ordered, “You look after yourself, too.”

Regina mustered a reassuring smile, nodding once before she left to the West Wing library, desperate for any magical spell to give her the upper hand in the battle that was undoubtedly going to happen that night.

…

Regina walked at a leisurely pace towards the Broomfield Tree. It was only a five minute walk and she needed that time to go over spells and incantations once more before she took on her sister.

Her purposeful footsteps became slower as the tall tree came into view, the cracks in the dark brown bark giving the trunk of the tree a mosaic-like effect, and the teardrop-shaped leaves that had not yet fallen, dark red and tinged with orange in their centres, danced together in the cold, midnight breeze.

An unnaturally strong gust of wind extinguished Regina’s flame and left her in darkness. Then everything stilled; the leaves stopped rustling, the crickets stopped chirping, the wind stopped whispering...

Zelena had arrived.

Regina watched as a circle—around twenty feet in diameter—of lanterns lit around her. Slowly turning in a circle, Regina searched for any sight of her sister, knowing she wouldn’t be able to stay in the shadows for too long.

"Evening, sis," Regina heard from behind her, confirming her sister’s lack of subtlety. Turning her head, she saw Zelena standing with one hand on her hip and the other holding her broom, "or is it morning?"

"Skip the pleasantries," Regina ordered, "what do you want?"

"What? No 'hello' hug?" Zelena mocked, her lips pursed, "how very rude of you."

"Forgive me if I'm not in the mood for familial love," Regina retorted. "Being blackmailed kind of makes for a more impersonal interaction, wouldn't you say?"

"Indeed," mocked Zelena, tilting her head and pouting.

"So, I'll ask you again; what do you want?"

"Everything," Zelena whispered, her eyes widening as a manic grin appeared on her lips.

Regina rolled her eyes, "You're going to have to be a bit more specific, dear."

"Everything you have… I want."

Regina sighed. "The jealousy again? Really?"

"I want your castle, Regina,” Zelena started. “I want your kingdom, I want your crown—”

"It's a pity you didn't say you wanted Grumpy,” Regina mumbled. “You could have gladly had him."

"Now is not the time for jokes, Regina," Zelena warned.

"No, it isn't,” Regina agreed, her eyes darkening. “So let me make something clear; you are not getting anything from me. You are not having my castle, you are not having my kingdom, and you are not having my crown."

Zelena let her broom fall to the floor as she stood taller. "I warned you what would happen if I didn't get my way."

"You did. Now let me warn you; you harm a hair on the heads of anyone I even remotely care about, and I swear to you, death will be something you _beg_ for," Regina snarled.

Zelena's cocky expression faded at her sister's promise for a split second before she put up an appearance of confidence, taunting, "Oh? And what could you possibly do to me?"

A grin tugged at the corner of Regina's mouth as she summoned her magic into her palms, comforted by the tingle that grew stronger with each passing second.

When Regina was sure she had enough power behind her, she looked directly into her sister’s eyes, said "this" and outstretched her arms, “ _Faina Templa”_ resounding in her head until the wave of energy she had summoned peaked, left her and hit Zelena.

Regina smirked at Zelena's stumble backwards. The spell had not been to destroy, merely a demonstration of her power, a warning shot. And apparently it had worked perfectly, making Zelena slightly hesitant to raise her hands to her sister.

But then Zelena recovered and reciprocated, her green magic lighting her palms then heading straight for Regina's chest. Stepping to her right, Regina avoided the brunt of the blow, but she could not help a wince leaving her as she felt the skin of her left upper arm split apart.

Regina watched as a deep red seeped through the blue fabric on her arm, spreading out slowly, turning the clean, horizontal cut into a round, bloody mess. She turned to glare at Zelena.

No more warning shots.

Inhaling deeply, Regina cupped her hand in front of her and summoned a fireball with a simple _“Koron en' naur”._ After sending the heat to engulf her sister, Regina chuckled as Zelena patted down the singed fabric on her shoulder to extinguish the flames.

“You burned my cape!” Zelena exclaimed.

“No, I burned _my_ cape,” Regina retorted. She recognised the black, feathered garment hanging on the shoulders of the witch in front of her; it had been in her own wardrobe for years.

Regina dodged the retaliation from Zelena by turning, and before she had continued the full spin Regina had muttered “ _Ram en' ondo”_ and her hands were outstretched toward Zelena. The spell worked as intended and knocked the green witch back, into a tree five feet behind her.

Falling to her knees, winded, Zelena didn’t see Regina’s hand raise and uproot a trunk of a nearby tree—one that the woodsman had been at, judging by its lack of branches--with a simple _“Bela ed' templa_ ”, her intention being to drop it on her sister. But just as the trunk was hovering over Zelena, the witch’s arm raised and the weapon was flung at Regina instead.

The trunk hit her legs, knocking her off her feet and sending shockwaves of pain through her. Landing on her front, Regina’s breath was knocked out of her. In the time it took for her lungs to recover, the other witch had stood up and brushed herself off, tilting her head at her sister when she heard Regina’s quiet groan.

“Did that hurt?” she asked, her voice dripping with false sincerity, “Oops.”

Gritting her teeth, Regina pushed herself up and stood on her feet, ignoring the throbbing in her lower legs and focussing on mentally repeating “ _Quanta yassen 'kshapsa”_ until her fingers twitched with unreleased energy.

When Regina’s magic hit Zelena, she stumbled back so much that she almost hit the tree again. The poison Regina had created infected her body, causing a discolouration of her skin from her shoulder to partly across her chest, coal black tainting emerald green.

A flash of agony appeared on Zelena’s face before it was replaced with rage. Growling, Zelena cast a powerful spell of her own. The green magic hit Regina on the right side of her torso and for a moment there was nothing but blinding light and blinding pain.

Regina took in a gasping breath, almost falling to her knees as her hands clutched her side. But before her knees gave way, Regina felt a pressure around her neck and she was suddenly being lifted into the air.

…

Robin was awoken by his son jumping on his bed on all fours, calling "Papa, Papa, Papa" incessantly.

With a groan. Robin rolled over and captured his son in his arms, forcing the little boy to calm down. "What's the matter?" he asked, voice gruff with sleep.

"Look at the lights, Papa!"

"What lights?" mumbled Robin as he closed his eyes and snuggled down with his son, the weight of sleep trying to tug him back to the land of dreams.

"The pretty lights in the forest, Papa." When Roland didn't get a reply from his father, he started bouncing again. "Papa! Come look!"

Knowing his son was as stubborn as he was, it was obvious that Roland wasn't going to give in until he had shown him whatever had attracted his attention. Robin released the boy with a heavy sigh of “alright”' and threw back the covers, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress as he sat up.

The chilly midnight air brought goose-bumps to his skin, his undergarments and loose vest offering very little protection against the cold weather. Padding barefoot over to the window, Robin rubbed his eyes in attempt to somehow clear the blurriness from his vision.

Standing at the window, Robin glanced out at the dark landscape before him, straining to see the lights that had enraptured his son.

"There, Papa!" Roland declared, pointing as he jumped onto the ledge. "Look, look."

Following his boy's finger, Robin looked over to a section of the woods to his left, and saw a dim green light illuminate an area between the tall trees.

"What is that?" Robin asked, a frown appearing on his face. It was obvious his son didn't know the answer, but Roland still shrugged his shoulders, palms facing the ceiling as he mumbled “don’t know.”

There was a pause before there was another light, although this one was a deep purple in colour.

_“What is going on?_ ” Robin wondered. These lights were unusual, something which he had never seen the likes of before.

"Papa? Can we go see?" Roland asked, turning to face his father with widened eyes and an excited smile.

"Roland, it's the middle of the night," Robin protested.

"I know, Papa, but I want to see the pretty lights!"

“It might be dangerous, son,” Robin sighed.

“Might not be,” Roland countered. “And you keep me safe, Papa.”

Robin ruffled his son’s messy hair with a smile. That was true; he would always keep his boy safe.

“Please, Papa!” Roland asked again, taking his father’s hand out of his hair and holding it between both of his own.

“Okay,” Robin conceded. “But you stay by my side the entire time, unless I say otherwise. Got it?”

Roland nodded his head emphatically, grinning from ear to ear, and then bounded around the room as his father put on some clothing more suitable for wandering the grounds at midnight.

…

Regina’s eyes widened as the pressure around her neck increased. Looking down at her sister, she wasn’t surprised to see Zelena snarling, teeth bared and eyes full of rage.

Struggling for breath, Regina summoned all the magic she had in her, feeling her strength weaken as consciousness slipped away. As the ground became more distant, Regina’s silent chants of _“Tyara harwar_ ” became more desperate.

Regina felt her magic building, the power to harm brought forth as darkness started to creep into her vision. At the last possible moment, Regina released her spell, and Zelena was unconscious before she could even think about countering it.

…

Robin and Roland walked down the hallway, the young boy chatting incessantly about his excitement about seeing the pretty lights and how he is a brave boy and he will behave because he promised and he never _ever_ breaks a promise.

Robin tried to hush his son, but it was too late; one of the doors to the Merry Men’s chambers opened, and a very dishevelled-looking George Rochester stepped through it.

“Robin?” George asked, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “What are you doing?”

Robin swung the hand that held his son’s as he replied, “Roland saw these lights outside and wanted to get a closer look.”

Still half-asleep, George blinked slowly a few times. “What kind of lights?”

“Pretty lights,” Roland eagerly answered. “And they were green and purple and… and pretty.”

A small smile came to George’s face at Roland’s enthusiasm. “And you’re going out in the middle of the night to see them?”

Roland’s keen “yes” was said whilst bouncing on the balls of his feet, the hand not holding his father’s waving up and down.

“I thought I’d just check to make sure everything is alright,” Robin confessed as he tapped the bow slung over his shoulder.

As the sleep cleared away from George’s mind, memories of Regina asking her favour alarmed him. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?” he asked, trying to figure out a way to change his leader’s mind about leaving the castle.

Robin didn’t seem to understand his friend’s concern. “What?”

“I mean, you don’t know what’s out there,” George pointed out, grasping at straws, “and isn’t it too dangerous for Roland?”

He knew it was a low blow—using Robin’s son against him—but he couldn’t think of any good reason to tell them to stay in the castle, without letting them know Regina asked to keep him inside.

“George,” Robin started, “we’ve lived in Sherwood Forest for a long time—”

“This isn’t Sherwood Forest, Robin!” George insisted, his mind racing for any way to get his friend back into his room.

“We’ll be fine,” Robin said before he started walking away, turning back and holding a hand out to his son. “Come on, Roland.”

“Wait,” George called at their backs. “I’ll go with you.”

If he couldn’t stop them from going, the most he could do was protect them.

…

Regina fell to the forest floor the moment Zelena’s magic stopped, gasping as she tried to fill her lungs with the oxygen she had been deprived of, her body drowning in pain. She had landed awkwardly, her shoulder was in the wrong place, her head had ricocheted off a small boulder and she was fairly certain her ribs had cracked when they landed on a protruding root. Any of her injuries could have caused the tears in Regina’s eyes, or it could have been the way her throat burned as she swallowed and heavily inhaled. It didn’t seem to matter much.

Regina watched as Zelena struggled to get to her feet, clutching her head with her left hand and pressing her right to her blackened shoulder. Neither of them had the strength to murder the other anymore; that much was clear, but if Zelena decided to attack Regina with another spell, it was doubtful that she would be able to counter it.

The green witch’s hands came to her front, unable to let the opportunity to attack her sister whilst she was down pass her by. But the moment she called forth her magic, a wave of agony washed through her, leaving her slumped against the broom she had quickly summoned.

“I’ll get you, Regina. I’ll get everything,” Zelena vowed as she mounted her broom, leaning just unbalanced enough for Regina to know that the Wicked Witch was not fine.

“Just watch me,” Zelena added before she lifted her feet and took off, leaving Regina to curl up into herself and try to catch her breath.

She needed to gain a little strength to move, she could not stay there. She could not close her eyes to rest, either; should she fall unconscious, Regina wasn’t quite sure if she would awaken.

…

“There’s nothing here,” George pointed out. “Now come on, let’s go back to bed. I’m tired.”

“You’re welcome to go back to sleep, George,” Robin said, “You didn’t need to come along.”

“I’m just keeping an eye out for you,” George mumbled, running a hand through his dirty blond hair, trying to tame it a little.

Robin turned his attention to his son, “There’s nothing here Roland.”

“Not here, Papa,” Roland explained, “it was in the woods.”

“Right,” Robin sighed, holding out his hand for Roland to hold, “Come on then.”

George ran to stand in front of them, “Robin, that’s not a wise idea.” At Robin’s confused look he continued; “It’s dark in the woods, but here on the grounds there are lanterns. I mean, here I can see you—I can see your face and everything—but it’s pitch black in the woods, Robin.”

“Well, we’re not scared of the dark, are we?” Robin asked, squeezing his son’s hand with a smile.

“Nope,” Roland said, twisting from side to side as he swung his father’s hand back and forth.

“Look, Robin, just… Go back to bed. You can find whatever it was in the morning.”

Roland gasped, “But George! It be gone by then.”

“Why are you so adamant that we return to the castle, my friend?” Robin asked. “What’s troubling you?”

George looked around the area, his eyes lingering on the dark woods behind him.

“I’ve just got a bad feeling,” he said. And he realised with a start that he wasn’t actually lying.

…

Regina knew she had two options; she could use what little magic she had left for a healing spell and hope that it would be enough for her to make her way to the castle. Or, she could transport herself into her room and heal herself whenever she had recovered enough strength.

The first option was risky; there was no guarantee that she would be well enough to make her way back to the castle after casting the spell, and even if her injuries did heal, it was doubtful that she would have the energy to make the whole trip on foot.

So teleportation it was. Bracing herself for the drain in energy she knew was coming, Regina’s mind repeated “ _Lema ed' templa_ ” until she felt herself being pulled away from the spot under the cover of the Broomfield tree, and deposited on the hard ground. She landed on her dislocated shoulder, which drew a grasp from her and a few fresh tears.

Regina knew she was not strong enough to try to move herself again. The cold seeped into her bones as she lay on the damp grass; she couldn’t even muster the energy to curl up to preserve her body heat. The Queen resigned herself to know that she was not going to be reaching safety any time soon.

Her shoulder hurt, her arm stung, her shins throbbed, her stomach ached, her head pounded…

It was too much.

Regina whimpered and screwed her eyes closed, then succumbed to blissful nothingness as she fell unconscious.

…

Roland squeezed tighter on his father’s hand as a cloud of purple smoke appeared fifty feet away from him. Gasping, Roland tugged on Robin’s hand with both of his, trying to get his attention. But his father—deep in confrontation with George—told him to wait a moment.

Roland watched as the smoke dissipated to leave a black shape on the grass.

“Papa!” Roland called out, with more volume and more incessant shaking of his father’s hand.

Robin disentangled his hand from his son’s, muttering, “I’ll be with you in a moment, Roland.”

Frowning, Roland looked between his father, his friend and the black shape on the ground. Frustrated at the lack of interest the grown-ups were showing in the mysterious figure, Roland slowly made his way around his father and headed toward the unmoving silhouette.

With a constant muttering of “ _be brave like papa, be brave like papa_ ”, Roland slowly walked over, his footsteps becoming closer together, the nearer he got.

Taking one last small step closer before he came to a stop, Roland inhaled deeply.

“H…Hello?” he stuttered tentatively, staring at the lump of dark fabric in front of him.

When there was no answer, Roland repeated his greeting a bit louder, and again received nothing in response.

Roland looked back to his father, tempted to call him over. But seeing him still in a heated discussion with his friend, he decided to turn back to the figure before him and take a few extra cautious steps toward it.

When he was close enough to make out a hand, palm up and fingers curled inwards, he gasped and ran around to the other side to see more. Kneeling down and tentatively pushing at fabric, Roland whined when his hand encountered something wet and sticky. Grimacing, he wiped it off on his trousers.  

Roland shuffled to his right and leaned closer to try to work his hands under the person lying in front of him. When he couldn’t get enough leverage to move them off their front, Roland moved the arm hiding their face and almost let out a cry when he recognised the features of the pretty Queen that had said she would ask his father if she could meet him for breakfast one day.

Scrambling to his feet, Roland sprinted to where his Papa and friend were still arguing, crying “Papa! George!” and tugging harshly on their clothing.

Robin looked down at his son with a frustrated scowl; he was having enough trouble trying to negotiate entering the forest with his friend, he didn’t need his son grabbing at his clothing with whatever had caught his attention this time.

“Roland. Give me a minute, please!” he snapped.

“Papa! It’s Majesty!” Roland yelled, stilling whatever quarrel the duo had.

“What?” they both asked, turning to face the little boy.

Roland pointed to the where the Queen was lying and Robin rushed over without a moment’s hesitation, falling to his knees and running his hands over Regina’s figure to assess the damage.

When his hand made contact with the cut on her arm and came away red, Robin felt his heart constrict. _What the hell had happened?_

He turned Regina over onto her back and gasped when he saw a small cut on her cheekbone, blood on her hairline from a bump to the head and a dark bruise on her collar bone already forming.

Robin didn’t bother to look for any other injuries. Gathering her up in his arms, he stood, leaning back so her head rested on his shoulder before he started hastily making his way to the castle, repeating a single prayer to the gods with every step.

_Please, don’t leave me._

…………

Elvish spell – English translation

_Faina Templa – Energy Bolt_

_Koron en' naur – Fireball_

_Ram en' ondo – Wall of Stone_

_Bela ed' templa – Telekinesis_

_Quanta yassen 'kshapsa – Poison_

_Tyara harwar – Harm_

_Lema ed' templa - Teleport_

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, apologies this took way longer than expected but I have been rather busy as of late (moving house is so freaking tiring) and my beta - Sammy - has been really busy too. So my deepest apologies for that.  
> I have started Uni again (had the introduction lecture today) and so updates may be even less frequent now - even deeper apologies - but I assure you I'll work on it as much as I can :)  
> So drop a comment (either here or tumblr - mysterious-song) if you like, they make my day.
> 
> But on another note... last night's episode!!!! Such a myriad of emotions. I barely handled it!  
> xXx

As she lay battered and bruised, as pale as the sheets she was covered with, Regina looked nothing like the great and terrible Queen that she had once built a reputation as. She looked young, peaceful and so very human.

Her left hand had been slathered with creams and wrapped in bandages to prevent the infection of the broken skin, and the other was laid across her chest, as her newly mended shoulder was put in a sling.

Sometime during the few hours that the healer had been working on her injuries, the sun rose and began to cast a glow across the room. The light illuminated Regina’s soft features, with her eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks.

The doctor that Snow and Charming had called, upon seeing a limp Regina cradled to Robin’s chest, had treated the Queen with the utmost respect.  The man, whose name was Edwardson, kept his touch gentle whenever possible, and he had insisted that someone close to Regina redressed her—put her into something not quite as constricting as her corset—before he started working. Robin had stolen one of his Merry Men’s buttoned shirts for the Queen to wear. It almost drowned Regina; the hem fell to her mid-thigh and the cuffs had to be rolled up several times to reveal her hands, but Robin thought she looked stunning in anything.

Even when she had dark bruises marring her cheek and her wrists and her neck, dark hair curling around her temple where the blood had been cleansed away, Robin still thought that she was the most beautiful woman in the castle—no, in entire the kingdom.

The doctor had rattled off a list of her injuries, ranging from bruises to a dislocated shoulder to a concussion to fractured bones. But those injuries were common, they were treatable; the group wasn’t tooworried about those wounds.

No, the things that worried them the most were the uncanny marks etched into Regina’s torso; a green pattern in shapes that were incredibly similar to those of lightning strikes, that spread from her hipbone up to the underside of her breast, and every so often the marks glowed and shone through the thin material of the borrowed shirt and Regina’s stomach muscles contracted.

“Can you heal her?” asked Snow as she pulled up a chair from beside Regina’s dresser and placed it next to the bed.

“I can heal some of the wounds, the majority of these cuts and bruises, her shoulder, her ribs,” the doctor answered, before his gaze turned solemn. “But I’m afraid I don’t know the extent of the magical damage. And that I cannot heal.”

Snow’s eyes snapped to Edwardson’s. “But she’ll be okay?” she asked worriedly, “Won’t she?”

“I’m honestly not certain, your highness,” he replied, “I haven’t dealt with many magical injuries, and certainly not ones as severe as these. I’m afraid my medical knowledge does not include wounds inflicted by powerful sorcerers.”

“She’s a fighter,” Snow stated, determination in her voice as she reached forward and took Regina’s left hand in hers.

Charming moved to stand to the side of his wife, reaching down to place a comforting hand on the back of Snow’s neck. “That she is,” he said confidently, “You know Regina, she’ll pull through.”

“I’m glad you have faith,” the doctor started, “but I’m afraid it would be unwise for me to give false hope. The Queen may be a very powerful woman, but from what I’ve heard, this ‘Wicked Witch’ is equally as strong, if not more so. I’d prepare yourselves for either outcome…at the moment, I can’t say what is the most likely.”  

Snow’s grip on Regina’s hand tightened as she looked at her husband with pleading eyes.

“Is there nothing else you could do?” asked Charming.

The doctor shook his head, “I’ve done all I can.” Edwardson took a final look at the three heartbroken faces before him and turned his expression to the floor, muttering a solemn, “I’m so sorry.”

When a thud indicated that the doctor had truly left, Snow stood and wrapped her arms around her husband, softly crying into his shoulder. The prince rubbed a soothing hand up and down his wife’s back. His sorrowful eyes left the Queen to take a look at Robin, who had not said a word beyond the “help”that he had greeted them with at their bedroom door.

Robin stood there; a blank expression and turmoil behind his eyes, a frown on his face as his the corners of his lips curled downwards. Charming didn’t know what had been going on between the thief and the Queen, but he knew anguish when he saw it.

Charming placed a kiss on his wife’s temple and whispered soothing words into her ear, his hands trailed from the base of her neck to the small of her back and then repeating in a fluid motion.

For a moment, Robin’s eyes stopped scrutinising Regina’s every injury and he looked up at the prince and princess. Their closeness and intimacy unintentionally made Robin feel like an intruder.

Knowing he needed to get back to his son—whom he had left with George as he personally saw to it that Regina was treated with the best care the kingdom could offer—Robin closed his eyes with a short sigh before he turned and walked towards the door. Sparing Regina one last glance, Robin twisted the handle and headed out into the corridor. The outlaw needed to get his thoughts sorted out before he got to his room and saw his little boy.

Robin’s steps were slow and steady; one foot in front of the other, on auto-pilot as his mind whirred.

It was happening again; he was losing someone else.

It was doubtful that he would feel the same desperate desire to simply stop existing as he had when his beloved Marian had died, but Robin somehow knew that, if he were to lose Regina, his life would never be the same again. Which was inexplicable, because they were not—they weren’t—together. It was just meant to be something light in the midst of a dark fight, a bit of fun to keep them both occupied from time to time.

But a feeling of dread that had settled in his stomach, from the moment his Roland had shouted that it was “majesty” lying unmoving on the castle grounds. It had Robin scared; if the threat of losing Regina made him feel this torn apart, then he prayed to every single god out there that he would never, ever lose her for real. He couldn’t lose her.

Not his Queen. Not his Regina.

…

When Robin entered his room, the Merry Men, who had known—or had been told—that something was wrong, looked up at their leader. What they saw looked like the shell of a man; the permanent frown, the blank stare that somehow held so much pain, and the way that he looked at his son, like he was the only reason the thief was still standing on two feet.

They had seen this before, and their prayers to never see it again had apparently been ignored.

Robin stepped forward and knelt in front of his son, taking the boy from George’s lap and into his own arms, holding him tightly. Robin’s eyes closed as he breathed in Roland’s comforting smell. The four men—George, Will, Friar Tuck and Little John—all stared at him with worried frowns.

“Is the Queen okay, papa?” Roland asked, his childish innocence made his father’s eyes start tearing up. Robin didn’t answer; he couldn’t form the words. His features scrunched, as if he was one second away from crying, and he just held his boy tighter.

Will placed a hand on Robin’s back, offering whatever support he could muster. George sat, staring down at the floor, whilst the other two watched with solemn gazes as their leader tried not to fall apart.

…

For the rest of the first day, Snow refused to leave Regina’s side. She did nothing but sit in the chair she had settled beside the Queen, holding her hand, and every so often unnecessarily rearranging her stepmother’s long hair, subconsciously twirling a few strands between her fingers.

Even with all of the bad history between them, their relationship was far past the “trying to kill each other” phase. They would never be best of friends; Snow knew this much. But that did not mean that she would ever stop reminiscing on the closeness they had once shared; the way that Regina would sit and braid her stepdaughter’s hair, and sing lullabies when there was a terrible thunderstorm, and tell her bedtime stories when she had woken up in the middle of the night after a nightmare.

When she had lost her mother, Snow had never expected to welcome another person into the family like she had Regina. And once Snow let someone into her family—and her heart—they never stopped being family to her. No matter what happened between them.

“What were you thinking, Regina?” Snow asked the unresponsive Queen, knowing that she wouldn’t get an answer, but desperate to hear something other than painful silence and the faint background noise of people moving around the castle. “Why would you go out alone when you knew that you’d be putting yourself in danger?”

Snow huffed, “But I guess that’s just you, isn’t it? You never really consider the consequences of you getting hurt—you just do what you want. Because you never back down from a fight, _never_.”

The princess missed the sound of the door being pushed open and Robin taking two steps into the room, before he realised that Regina was not alone.

“But I also think that you don’t care if you get hurt, because you believe that no one else does,” acknowledged Snow, unaware of the presence behind her.

The princess shuffled forward on her chair and leaned toward Regina, “But let me tell you something, stepmother; people _do_ care. _I_ care, more than you would believe. And I promise, I will never stop caring for you, no matter what you do.”

Once Snow had started, she couldn’t stop—all her heartfelt words tumbled out of her mouth as if Regina was awake, imagining the Queen’s unimpressed glare as she tried to imagine the quickest way out of a heart-to-heart with her former enemy.

Robin backed up toward the door, quietly edged out into the corridor and headed back to his room. He did not want to interrupt the princess. The irony was not lost on him that all Snow seemed to do was interrupt, but this was a private moment and the thief refused to ruin it.

Snow watched her fingers as she trailed patterns over the back of Regina’s bandaged hand. “I know that you—and many others—don’t understand why I would ever want to forgive you. But the truth is…I’ve already forgiven you; I forgave you ages ago, for everything you did.

“Because I understand now; I took everything away from you, your love, your happiness, your freedom. I just hope that, after everything… you can forgive me too.”

Snow brought Regina’s hand up, pressing a kiss to her knuckles with tears in her eyes.

“You’re my family, Regina. I love you, and I need you in my life. Even if it’s just to throw quick-witted insults and imagine the many ways in which you can poison Charming and I. Just… wake up. Please, Regina. For me.”

…

The second day, Robin had not left his room. His men had come in, had pretended to be there to play with Roland, but in reality they had just wanted to see how their leader was faring. They offered some support, a few “everything will be fine” and “we’re here if you need us” speeches.

But nothing really helped; Robin was still subdued, less vibrant, and he could just barely muster a few smiles for his son.

Regina was playing on his mind, still. Although instead of images of her body decorated with marks from his mouth, moaning, he saw visions of her decorated with cuts and bruises and crying out in pain.

Robin had not had an hour’s sleep the previous night, and it was doubtful he’d get enough that night, either.  But when Roland climbed into Robin’s lap in the evening to calm down before bed, he felt just a bit more comforted than he had all day.

Roland shifted in his father’s lap to look up at him. “Papa?” he asked tentatively.

“What is it, my boy?” Robin inquired as he dropped a kiss to the top of his head.

“Can I go see Majesty?”

Robin’s heart skipped a beat. “Roland…”

“Please, papa?” pleaded the boy, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.

“Roland, her majesty is injured,” Robin explained. “And she’s sleeping right now, she needs her rest to get better, and you’re not one to be quiet, are you?”

“I’ll be quiet as a mouse, papa. I promise,” Roland assured, turning to fully face his father.

Robin lowered his voice, a warning “Roland,” leaving his lips.

“Please, papa?” begged Roland. “Pretty please?”

Robin sighed, looking at his son and understanding the need to see the Queen. And if he was being honest, a visit was due on his part, anyway. “Alright, I suppose.”

Robin stopped his son from jumping for joy with a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder, his voice turning solemn as he knelt down in front of him. “Roland, her majesty looks a bit different, alright? She’s got a bruise on her cheek, and some bruises on her neck, and she’s a bit pale—”

“Papa, I don’t care,” Roland insisted, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I want to see majesty.”

“Okay,” Robin stood up and changed into clothing more suitable for walking around the castle, before he held his hand out for his son to take. He waited for a moment as Roland grabbed his stuffed monkey.

Muttering a “come on”, Robin led them from their room.

As soon as they made it into Regina’s chambers, Roland started to make a beeline for the Queen’s bed, but he saw Snow sitting by it and stopped, looking to his father.

“It’s fine,” Robin assured him, “it’s just Princess Snow.”

Snow tried to talk to the boy, asked a couple of questions about how he was, but Roland was occupied with carefully climbing onto the bed, his attention fully on Regina.

Once he was sitting by Regina’s hip with his legs crossed, he looked to Snow, timidly asking if Regina could hear him.

“I don’t know, sweetie,” Snow replied, “but I’ve been talking to her, you’re welcome to talk to her too, if you’d like. I’m sure she’d love to hear your voice.”

Roland took a deep breath, his features scrunching together adorably as he concentrated on what he wanted to say. “Majesty, Papa says you’re poorly, and that you’re sleeping so you can get better. When I’m poorly, Papa always stays with me until I’m better. But I can’t stay with you too long because he says I’m too noisy and you need to rest.” Roland lifted the white sheets on the right side of her and slid his stuffed monkey underneath, ensuring the toy was curled into Regina’s arm, and both the Queen and the monkey were tucked in well—he was copying what his father did to him at bedtime. “So I asked Michael and he’s going to take care of you when I’m not here. He’ll protect you, like you protect me.”

Snow looked at Robin, and he looked back at her, both of them with watery smiles.

Roland leaned back and turned so that he was perpendicular to the Queen. He slowly reached out and stroked Regina’s hair, arranged so it covered half her torso. Roland held a large section in his hands, transferring the strands from his left hand to his right, one small piece at a time, and then back to his left again, humming a small tune as he did so. Robin recognised it as the same tune he had hummed when Roland had required soothing as a baby—Robin hadn’t known that his son had actually remembered.

Robin walked over, sitting in the chair to the right of Regina, placing a hand on his son’s back and rubbing soothing circles. His eyes were fixed on his son’s actions, and Robin watched for several minutes, until his son was yawning more than he was humming.

When the boy’s eyelids started to droop, Robin stood and moved to scoop Roland up into his arms, ready to go to bed. But Roland pushed his father’s hands away and told him to wait another moment.

Robin and Snow looked on as Roland carefully crawled higher up the bed and placed a gentle kiss to Regina’s forehead, whispering a sleepy “get better soon, majesty,” before turning and holding his arms out to his father, so that he could carry him to bed.

…

The third day, Snow was still at Regina’s bedside, and had slept and eaten very little. Word had gotten around that the Princess wasn’t leaving the Queen’s side and several people had become concerned.

One of these people was Granny, and as soon as she had heard that Snow wasn’t taking proper care of herself, she had gone into the Queen’s room, prepared to drag the girl out to eat something.

She was met with protests from the princess, as she had expected, but Granny would not take “no” for an answer.

“Granny, I’m fine,” Snow insisted.

Granny put her hands on her hips with a declaration of, “You’re coming with me.”

Snow didn’t make it past “I ca—” before Granny had stalked over and grabbed both of her hands, pulling her up from the chair.

“You’re coming with me,” The elder woman repeated, wrapping an arm around Snow’s side and guiding her away from the Queen.

“I can’t leave her,” Snow argued, “I won’t let her wake up alone.”

Robin—who had heard the tail end of Snow’s remarks from the doorway—stepped forward. “I’ll stay with her,” he said.

Both Snow and Granny turned to look at him with mild confusion, and he felt the need to clarify; “So that she won’t wake up alone.”

“Thank you,” Snow said, although it was with slight trepidation; whilst she was thankful for Robin’s offer of staying with Regina, it was not the same as staying there herself. And Snow _wanted_ to be there for her stepmother.

“Don’t worry,” Robin started, addressing the princess, “I don’t have anything to do for a while. Just go for fifteen minutes, get something to eat. She’ll be here when you get back.”

When Snow took a small step toward the door, Granny took advantage and pushed her

As soon as the two women walked past Robin, he made his way over and sat in Snow’s chair, taking a moment to look over Regina, cataloguing her injuries; the redness of cuts were a little faded and the shade of the bruises that marred her beautiful features were just a little different.

Leaning forward, Robin took Regina’s hand in his, feeling comforted by the warmth and the thrumming of her pulse under his fingertips.

“Alright,” Robin started. “So I know Snow has been talking to you, and I know that you’re probably growing tired of hearing people talk. But if you want me to stop, you’re going to have to wake up and tell me yourself.”

Robin chuckled; he didn’t feel awkward talking to the sleeping Queen in the slightest. It made way for uninterrupted conversation, although it felt too quiet when there was no retort from Regina’s lips.

“You need to wake up. And without meaning to sound sentimental—because I’m not—I suppose the only way to explain this is that I miss you. And some of the things you do.” Robin’s gaze became unfocused as he continued with a small smile, “The fire in your eyes when you’re angry, that little twitch in the corner of your lips when you’re trying not to smile, the witty insults that keep everyone on their toes…”

Robin swallowed as he watched his fingers play over the back of Regina’s hand, “Everything seems so dull without you stirring up trouble. And I miss the…the rest of it too.”

His thoughts continued as he remembered skin on skin, moans in his ear, and his name escaping red lips in a pleasured sigh.

Moving closer, Robin held onto Regina’s hand tighter, his eyes fluttering shut. “I know I’m just a thief and that you’re the Queen. And I know that you don’t take orders from anyone. But just this once, just listen to me and wake up. _Please._ ”

When Robin opened his eyes, he felt his heart sink when there was no sign of any change. He didn’t really know what he was expecting; it was obvious that a simple plea wasn’t going to work. Regina Mills kept to her own schedule. But there was a glimmer of hope in Robin’s heart that, just maybe, he might have been enough to get through to her.

Before the outlaw could say anything else, the door opened and Snow hastily entered. Robin saw her face deflate at the lack of change in Regina’s condition.

Snow started making her way in Robin’s direction to reclaim her seat by Regina’s bedside. Standing from the princess’ chair, Robin reluctantly gave up the warmth and comfort of Regina’s hand, letting go with a gentle squeeze. Robin received a grateful smile laced with a touch of something he couldn’t decipher.

When Robin got back to his room, he made conversation with his men as he sat and held his son, until they eventually left when it was time for the Roland to go to bed.

Robin collapsed back onto his own bed as soon as Roland was tucked in and his breathing had evened out. The outlaw was asleep in minutes.

When he awoke more than an hour later, he looked over to his son’s bed and saw nothing but crumpled sheets. Sitting up in mild panic, Robin looked around the room and tried to pick out his boy’s shadow. He saw nothing.

Practically flinging himself out of bed, Robin grabbed the nearest shirt and trousers, donned them, and raced into the hallway. He checked each of his Merry Men’s chambers for Roland and once again found nothing.

Dread took hold of Robin and he looked around, searching for any sight of his son.

 _No… not him too_.

Robin racked his brain for any place his son might be, flitting from his room—he had checked there, and checked his men’s rooms. He considered the dining hall – Roland would never have gone there; it was too far away and there was nothing there at this time of night.

Clenching his fists, a wave of unnecessary anger washed over him; he had taught his son better than to have him disappear without telling anyone where he was going. And he would never run off in the middle of the night; every time Robin had ever watched Roland sleep, the boy had been curled up around his toy with his thumb in his mouth and a very slight smile at the corners of his mouth.

His toy. The monkey. Regina. _Of course._

As fast as he could, Robin made his way to Regina’s chambers, desperately hoping his son would be there. He had to be.

When Robin threw the door open without a care for those inside who may have been sleeping, he almost collapsed in relief when he saw his son, safe and sound. He was lying on Regina’s bed, his head over her heart, his thumb in his mouth and his other hand tangled in Regina’s dark hair, sleeping peacefully.

Granny was sitting in the secondary chair placed by the bed, knitting a scarf of some sort, occasionally glancing at the young boy. Snow was on the other side, hunched over with her hand over Regina’s, deep in sleep.

“Your son came in about half an hour ago,” Granny informed Robin without looking up, “he climbed up to lie beside the Queen and was asleep within minutes.”

“Thank you,” Robin replied, walking over to smooth a hand over his son’s hair, finally finding humour in the whole situation instead of utter terror.

It appeared that his son had a soft spot for the Queen.

Robin scoffed with a wry smile.

Like father, like son.

…

The fourth day, Robin spent half an hour on the forest grounds finding flowers suitable for a bouquet for the Queen. When the bunch of flowers became too large for him to hold in one hand, Robin made his way back to the castle, stopping off for an ornate vase before he reached Regina’s chambers.

He didn’t bother to knock; Regina was still not awake to tell him if he wasn’t welcome, and until he saw her alive and well, he would not stop coming in every once in a while to just sit by her side, usually whilst Snow was ushered off for some food.

Regina would not wake up alone.

When Robin entered the Queen’s chambers, he was disheartened to find Snow rearranging a bouquet that she had brought in. Twice the size of his, and twice as colourful, Robin looked down at the bunch of flowers in his hand and let out a small sigh.

Snow turned around and let out a small, surprised yelp. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you.”

“Sorry,” said Robin as he turned back toward the door, “I’ll just—”

“Stay,” Snow called out at his back, continuing when he turned to face her, “It will be nice to have someone talking back to me.”

They both let out a small laugh, but neither one really felt it; the joke was a bit too close to the truth for their liking.

Robin sat down on the chair on Regina’s right, opposite Snow, placing his vase on the small bedside table beside him. He placed his hands on the Queen’s duvet so his knuckles brushed her covered waist, occasionally grasping the sheets and then releasing. He wrung his hands in an effort to refrain from running his fingers through her hair. If she woke up, Robin would do that a lot more often—no, _when_ she woke up. Regina dying was not an option.

The duo made small talk; the happenings in the castle, the antics of the Merry Men, the lack of anything from Zelena—making the two wonder who had come out of the fight in the worst condition. It wasn’t long before their conversation turned to Regina; how ironically peaceful she looked, how boring the palace seemed to be without her, the fact that most people actually seemed to be distressed that the Queen’s fate was hanging in the balance.

Snow observed Robin during a lull in the conversation, contemplation gracing her features as the outlaw looked upon the Queen with an expression she could definitely name, and had seen many a time before.

“Robin,” Snow tentatively started, taking a breath before she asked, “What’s going on between the two of you?”

“Forgive me, but _if_ anything was going on,” Robin started, his tone gentle but firm, “I don’t think it is your right to know.”

“No, I understand. Of course. I just…” Snow took a deep breath as she started playing with the edge of her sleeves, tugging at a loose thread. “Regina’s lost so much, too much. And I don’t want her to gain anything, just to lose it again.”

“I’ve no intention of hurting her, Snow,” Robin assured.

“It doesn’t matter if you intend to or not, sometimes you try to do right and…” Snow voice trailed off as she looked back down at her hands. “It’s always Regina who loses in the end.”

Robin regarded the princess with a pensive glance. “You sound as if you’re speaking from experience.”

Snow was not really thinking about who she was talking to, too lost in the memory of their past as she wiped away a tear, confessing, “It’s because of me that she lost the love of her life.”

Robin was torn between asking for more information—wanting to know about Regina’s history with Snow and hoping to understand her better—or staying quiet and respecting Regina’s privacy, knowing she wouldn’t want him to know anything she hadn’t told him herself.

The choice was made for him when Snow changed the topic, coming to her senses as she looked up and saw the thief struggling to make a decision. “So,” she diverted, “when did you two stop trying to kill each other and start being friendly? It’s almost as if you actually _like_ each other.”

Robin scoffed, he couldn’t actually pinpoint the moment when he realised that Regina was more than just a royal pain in the arse.

Snow misunderstood the outlaw’s scoff for denial. “What? You like her. And I know she likes you.”

“Do you?” Robin asked, before releasing a small chuckle. “It’s quite difficult to tell with Regina at times.”

“No, it’s not,” Snow gently insisted. “She may put up all these masks, but her eyes give her away. And it’s the way she looks at you; you’re one of the few people she doesn’t look at like she’s trying not to murder them.”

Robin chuckled, remembering argument after argument from his first few months at the castle with Regina. “You obviously haven’t seen us enough.”

“I have,” Snow admitted. “I have seen enough.”

Robin looked at her questioningly. “What?”

“I saw you, the other day, in the council chamber.” Robin sat up straight and looked slightly embarrassed, the first thing coming to mind about that meeting was Regina’s exquisite torture. And if Snow saw that…he’d have some explaining to do, surely.

But Robin was extremely grateful when Snow carried on and didn’t seem to imply she saw anything too intimate. “I saw you two talking, you were…standing really close together, and Regina had this smile on her face that I’ve rarely seen before.”

Robin looked confused at the small smile appearing on Snow’s face. “What are you saying?” he asked gently.

Snow took a breath and tugged on the piece of thread again. “I know it’s not my place to pry…”

“No, it isn’t,” Robin responded; he was not going to spill any secrets to Snow about what he and Regina had. He wasn’t exactly sure what it was himself.

“I was just wondering—I mean, I just—” Snow stuttered, before taking a moment to phrase her question. “What do you want from Regina?”

Robin was taken aback at her question; it was the exact phrase he had spoken to George just days earlier—when he had told him to be careful. “Excuse me?”

“Look, Regina, she’s…she’s been hurt, by _so_ many people, including me. I just want to make sure that _you_ don’t hurt her,” She’s quiet for a moment and he sees Snow’s posture straighten, determination in her eyes, “because there are people who care about her, more so than she believes. And if she gets hurt because of your actions, you should hope I don’t find you first. Alright?”

Robin sat back in his seat, slightly anxious at the sweet and precious princess speaking with such a thinly-veiled threat in her voice. Snow obviously cared a lot for Regina, and would do all she could to ensure that the Queen didn’t have her heart broken.

Robin could identify with that.

Offering a small smile, Robin met Snow’s eyes and responded with a simple, “Alright.”

Snow, apparently satisfied, switched the conversation to the topic of his son in the blink of an eye, throwing Robin off completely and making him just a bit more aware that the princess was not one to be trifled with.

After a while, their conversation was interrupted by the mutual rumbling of their stomachs.

“I’ll go get us something to eat,” Robin said as he stood from his seat, stretching one way and then the other to ease the stiffness in his muscles from sitting in the same position for too long. “I need to go and put my son to bed, too. I didn’t realise how late it was getting.”

Snow turned to look out the balcony behind her, taking in the navy sky in slight surprise; time had run away with her as well.

“Okay,” she softly replied, before adding with a wry smile, “I’ll be here.”

Robin huffed and left with a glance back at Regina, mentally promising her, “I won’t be long.”

When Robin returned around half an hour later, he stood outside of the door wondering how to perform the simple task of opening and shutting a door with a full plate of food in each hand. Balancing the plates on his palms, Robin pushed down on the handle with his elbow before kicking the door open with his foot, and closing it in the same manner. He smiled, somewhat proud of his small victory.

Robin was preparing to call out to Snow, but he halted when he saw her fast asleep, hunched over the bed with her hair splayed over the cream duvet. Robin smiled and sat down in his chair at the opposite side of Regina’s bed. He ate everything he had brought for himself and everything perishable he had brought for Snow, before he placed both plates on the table beside him, next to his flowers.

For the first time since this ordeal, Robin spent the night by Regina’s side, comforted in the knowledge that Little John would be taking care of Roland if he wasn’t back by bedtime.

The outlaw fell asleep to the image of Regina, happy, healthy and beaming at him in his mind. The smile on his face tugged on the corner of his lips, even in dreams.

It was the best night of sleep he’d had in four days.

…

The fifth day, Charming walked in the room to find Snow on one side of Regina, with Robin on the other. Gently waking his wife, David ushered Snow out of the room, ordering her to get a change of clothes and something to eat. The prince shushed Snow when she announced –rather loudly—that she would be back soon, and was only leaving because it was her husband who had asked. They left Robin alone and asleep.

The two shared dinner together, and Charming refused to leave his wife alone until she had eaten something substantial. When Snow attempted to persuade Charming to believe that she would get some fresh clothes later—pointing out that if Robin was asleep Regina would still technically wake up alone—the prince offered to check on her while she changed. Snow had given in, albeit reluctantly, and had watched Charming go as he passed their chambers on the way to Regina.

Walking into the Queen’s chambers, Charming expected the thief to still be asleep. But Robin was sitting in Snow’s chair, changing the bandages on Regina’s hand.

David watched as Robin held Regina’s hand in his, wrapping the bandage slowly, ensuring the edges weren’t folded over or twisted, and picking off any noticeably frayed edges. Charming noted the fierce tenderness with which Robin treated Regina and knew that his wife had been right about the two when she had told him over lunch.

Charming cleared his throat, alerting Robin to his presence before he sat down in the chair Robin had been in earlier. He waited for a few moments, until Regina’s hand was cleanly covered and was once again resting by her side, with Robin’s hand resting on top.

Opening and closing his mouth several times, David wasn’t sure of how to approach the topic of Regina. But if Robin didn’t want to discuss anything, then he wouldn’t; it didn’t matter what was used as a conversation opener. And so David dived straight in with, “Are you in love with her?”

Robin paused in his action of lightly trailing his fingers over the new bandage, looking up at the prince with alarmed eyes. “What?”

“Regina,” Charming clarified. “Are you in love with her?”

Robin sighed, bringing a hand to rub at his forehead. “Has Snow been talking to you?”

“She mentioned it in passing,” Charming confessed. It was the main topic of their conversation at lunch, Snow had been wondering if she had been a little too forward in her warning to Robin, and then was unsure if she had warned him enough. David had remained quiet and let his wife talk, offering a listening ear and his opinion when she asked for it, not willing to interrupt her tirade.

“I don’t see how that’s any of her business to talk about,” Robin grumbled, placing both his hands in his lap.

“Snow’s a sharer,” David explained. “She likes to talk to everyone about everything.”

Robin looked up, slightly panicked, “She can’t tell—”

“No,” Charming interrupted. “Snow knows this isn’t her secret to share.”

Robin sighed. “Good, because it isn’t.”

A moment passed before Charming spoke again; “So…are you? In love with her, I mean. I doubt it’s an easy position to be in.”

“I don’t—I’m—” Robin stuttered, his mind whirring as he tried to work out the answer himself. He had an uncertain expression on his face when he settled on, “No. No, I’m not in love with her.”

David sat back in his chair with his arms folded. “I’m sensing there’s a ‘however’,” prompted Charming gently.

“I don’t know. It’s…complicated,” Robin said, looking at Regina and frowning. “I can’t explain it.”

“I get the appeal. Believe me, I do,” Charming admitted. “But just…treat her well.”

The thief looked up at the prince with furrowed eyebrows. The shock of the man—and his wife—telling Robin to look after Regina, after all the history between them, took him aback. Robin resigned himself to the idea that he’d probably never understand the relationship between the three of them at all.

“Has she always been like this?” Robin asked, nodding towards Regina. “Putting herself in harm’s way?”

David chuckled. “Regina is not one to back down from a fight. That much has been clear from the moment I met her.”

Robin looked down to Regina—still asleep, no movement, cuts and bruises prominent on her skin. “Well, she’s not fighting enough at the moment.”

“There’s not much for her to fight for anymore,” Charming acknowledged with a solemn frown. “She’s lost a lot.”

Robin’s voice was slightly hoarse when he replied, “Yes, Snow said something like that.”

“Snow is worried for her,” Charming stated. “And I’m worried for Snow. I dread to think how she would be if Regina…”

The silence after David’s voice trailed off was deafening; the possibility of Regina not actually pulling through became even more real.

“If I may, what’s the story between those two?” Robin gently asked, prepared for Charming to be as reluctant to disclose history as he had been with Snow.

“Between Snow and Regina?” Charming asked, having lost his train of thought as images of his wife, heartbroken by Regina’s possible death, swam through his head.

“Yes. I mean, from what I’ve heard, Regina spent years of her life hunting down Snow, as apparently she ruined her life. But now, Snow is hardly leaving her bedside and Regina is doing everything in her power to keep your child safe,” mused Robin as his brows furrowed, his lips pressing together in a straight line. “I don’t understand how relationships can go from one extreme to the other like that.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” David started, and Robin nodded in understanding. “And if I’m being completely honest, I don’t know most of it, anyway. It took me a while to get the real truth out of Snow.”

“Of course,” Robin said, preparing to drop the topic and try to move to something less saddening altogether.

“There’s a lot of darkness,” said Charming suddenly.

Robin prickled at the thought of the prince warning him off of Regina because of her past; she was not _that_ anymore, and even if she was, there was a lot more to her than just an overly harsh monarch. “I know the stories of the Evil Queen.”

Charming sighed. “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Than what are you saying?” Robin inquired, his eyes meeting the prince’s.

“Her story is…” Charming struggled for a few seconds to find the right word, “sorrowful, tragic really.”

“Oh,” Robin felt his heart drop. He knew that Regina hadn’t had the best life, but to hear that her life had been “sorrowful” and “tragic” set a heavy weight in his chest.

“I’m not sure what she’s told you, or what she’s willing to tell you,” said David. “Most of what I know is from Snow, or what Regina has let slip when she’s angry or upset and not really thinking about what she’s saying.”

Robin looked over to Regina, and from the emotions in his eyes, David came to the realisation that, just maybe, Robin could be exactly what the Queen needed; someone who would stand up to her, support her, and care for her, and all at the same time.

“My point is, just look after her.” Robin looked up at Charming, nonplussed. “Make sure she knows you’re there, but give her whatever space she needs. I know that Regina wouldn’t want to hurt you, but she has this defence mechanism and she pushes people away to keep them safe,” David swallowed, levelling his gaze at the man before him. “If you care for her, don’t stand for it.”

Robin nodded, declaring a determined, “I won’t.”

Both men shared a small smile before the door opened and Snow and Granny strolled in, deep in conversation. Charming rose from his seat and walked over to the two women, leaving Robin sitting by the Queen.

With a reluctant sigh, Robin realised it was due time he returned to his son; he had been spending a fair bit of time away from the boy as late and he was beginning to miss him.

Robin lifted her hand to his lips, brushing his stubble over her knuckles briefly before he stood up. On impulse, Robin leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Regina’s forehead, smoothed a hand over her hair, then turned away.

Walking to the exit, Robin passed the trio with a curt nod, turning sideways in order to slip through the slightly ajar door and so as not to bump Granny by opening it further.

Robin—or the others—didn’t see the way some colour returned to Regina’s cheeks, or the way her eyelashes fluttered or the way her fingers twitched, feeling the phantom brush of lips against her knuckles.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gosh, so this took forever and I am so very sorry but I've had a really busy time with moving house and starting Uni again and volunteering with the police and helping a few friends with their fics as well as writing out plans and scenes for another fic idea that hit me a few weeks ago, I'll endeavour to update quicker in the future.  
> Thanks for sticking with me and thank you for your comments :) you've made me smile so much.  
> xXx

The first thing Regina consciously knew was that she was in pain.

 _Everywhere_.

The second thing that she noticed—as she squinted and blinked several times before her eyes actually fully opened—was that it was daytime. It took Regina a few moments to orientate herself before she could actually take in her surroundings.

Well… she wasn’t lying in the grass of the castle’s grounds. That was a good thing. Regina took a split second too long to realise that she was actually in her own bedroom, lying in her own bed and wrapped in her own sheets.

Before she could turn her head to look at anything other than the ceiling and the canopy above her bed, she heard a gruff, “It’s about damn time you woke up.”

When she snapped her head to her right, she saw Granny sitting in a chair at her bedside, knitting. “How are you feeling?” the elder woman asked, with little interest.

Regina’s voice was rough when she replied with her customary “fine”, and she winced when she cleared her throat to try and relieve the hoarse scratchiness. 

“Don’t lie to me, missy,” Granny ordered firmly, before she repeated her original question. “How are you feeling?”

Regina searched for a suitable comparison to the turbulent waves washing through her, the ones that were both uncomfortable and painful.

The Queen settled on a wry, “Like I’ve been pulsed through a blender.” 

And she was only half joking.

“You look like it, too,” Granny retorted.

Regina sent a glare in the direction of the woman sitting in the chair, sighing with a dry “thanks.”

“Do you need anything?” Granny asked after a brief, slightly awkward pause.

She hesitated momentarily. “A drink,” she muttered reluctantly.

Granny picked up a glass of water from the table next to her, bringing it to Regina. When the Queen shifted and attempted to sit up, a firm hand was placed on her shoulder, keeping her in place.

“Here,” the woman said as she lifted the cup to the Queen’s lips, fighting the urge to chuckle at the glare sent her way.

After a few sips, Regina tilted her head away, and the glass was set back on the table. Closing her eyes, she tried to lift her hand to rub her forehead to ease a little tension away, but a warm weight—that she had only just recognised—prevented her from doing so. Looking down, the Queen was surprised to see Snow fast asleep, resting her head on the bed.

“The poor girl hasn’t left your side,” Granny stated, harshness creeping into her tone at the memory of her skipping meal times to stay with the Queen. “I don’t know why.”

Regina’s voice was quiet when she replied, “Neither do I.”

The scowl on Granny’s face softened briefly. “What were you thinking?” she asked sternly.

Regina blinked. “I’m sorry?”

Clarification was offered in the form of, “Going out by yourself when you knew Zelena had singled you out.”

“I didn’t plan on getting my ass handed to me,” sighed Regina, wincing and gritting her teeth as the pain in her stomach flared.

“What _did_ you plan for?” Granny asked, suspicion lacing her voice. “You spent an awful long time in that library. You knew something was going to happen.”

Regina’s lack of response was enough to suffice as an answer.

“What did she say?” questioned the woman. “In that message?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” she snapped.

Granny leaned forward, setting aside her wool and needles and she looked straight at the Queen, speaking in a low, authoritative voice as she ordered, “tell me.”

Not in the mood to spar with the elder woman, Regina dismissed her with, “She informed me of what she would do—”

“—if you wouldn’t meet with her,” Granny completed.

She received confirmation in the form of Regina’s nod, but then the Queen winced as the movement agitated her pounding head.

“She threatened you,” continued Granny, “didn’t she?”

Regina was about to shake her head, but stopped herself before her headache could flare up again. She stated simply, “She didn’t threaten _me_.”

Granny leaned back in her chair as a wave of understanding washed over her. “She threatened to hurt someone else,” she deduced, “in your name.”

The lack of response once again answered the question.

“Who?” asked Granny.

A dismissive “that doesn’t matter,” was Regina’s answer.

But Granny Lucas was not one to be placated by the Queen’s stubbornness. “I think that it _does_ matter.”

Regina turned to look at the woman sitting beside her. “It _doesn’t_ matter, because she’s not going to get to them.”

“Who is ‘them’?” Granny asked, becoming impatient when Regina looked away again. “No,” snapped the old woman, “you look at me, and you tell me; who did Zelena threaten?”

Meeting the woman’s gaze for a few seconds was enough to wear Regina down a lot; she was not in a good enough state to put up any kind of fight—verbal or physical—and the expression of determination in Granny’s eyes was the same as the one that Regina had seen in the mirror many times. There was no use in fighting the woman.

The Queen’s voice was quiet when she reluctantly answered. “It was Snow, Charming…Robin and his son, Roland. She showed me a vision of them,” Regina confessed, “they were all dead.”

A sorrowful expression appeared on Granny’s face. She may not have been particularly fond of the Queen, but that didn’t mean that Regina deserved to watch the suffering of the people she cared about. Nobody did.

Maternal instincts kicked in and Granny had to suppress the urge to reach for Regina’s hand or smooth down her hair. The Queen would definitely not appreciate that, and it would imply that she actually cared for the woman—even the smallest amount—which she would never admit to.

The awkward silence between the two was cut by Snow’s shifting, the sound of voices having disrupted her sleep. The princess sat up, blinking as she ran her hands through her hair and stretched, paying no attention to anyone else in the room as she roused herself from her slumber.

When her eyes fell on Regina’s face she gasped, and there was a moment of shocked silence before a beaming smile made its way across the princess’ face as she threw herself on the Queen. Snow buried her face in Regina’s shoulder as her torso stretched over the edge of the bed.

Granny went to warn the girl to be careful when Regina’s eyes scrunched closed and her whole body tensed, but the Queen waved her hand in dismissal before awkwardly placing it on Snow’s back.

“We were so worried,” whispered Snow into Regina’s hair.

“No need dear, I’m fine,” said Regina in slight annoyance.

Feeling mildly uncomfortable by the affection, Regina moved her hand to Snow’s shoulder and gently pushed her away. “See?” said the Queen when the girl still looked concerned.

“Yes but—you were—I mean, they said—”stuttered Snow before she took a deep breath, calming herself down so that she was able to complete her sentence. “They said it was unlikely that you would pull through.”

“Well ‘ _they_ ’ are idiots,” Regina grumbled, “besides; it’s going to take more than a jealous witch to get rid of me.”

Snow gently shook her head as she took Regina’s hand in hers again, “I’m just so glad that you’re alright.”

Feeling like an intruder, Granny stood from her chair, wincing at the pops and clicks of her set joints. “Well, I’m going to go and notify a few people you’re awake. I’ll leave the official announcement up to you.”

Regina muttered a “thank you” as the woman exited, closing the door behind her. This left the Queen alone with a bright and smiling Snow.

“So,” Snow started, “do you want to talk about it?”

Her reply was a curt “no”. Hadn’t Snow learned that she wasn’t a fan of heart-to-hearts?

The princess was quiet for a short time, before she looked to her stepmother and spoke. “For the first few days there were—”

“ _Days?_ How long have I—oh!” Regina groaned as she moved to sit up, but pain immediately began shooting through her and she gingerly laid herself back down again. The shock of her having been unconscious for several days had momentarily superseded all thought of her injuries.

Snow waited until Regina’s breathing had returned to normal and she had opened her eyes again before she answered the question she was no doubt going to be asked. “Today is the sixth day since the attack.”

“Six days,” Regina breathed, staring at the ceiling before she turned to Snow, offering a mockingly surprised, “and the castle is still standing?”

The girl smiled at the quip—proof that her stepmother was well again. She hadn’t fully realised how much she had missed the barbs and retorts aimed her way until there weren’t any.

“It’s good to have you back, Regina.”

The door suddenly flung open, making way for Charming to breeze through.

“Regina,” he greeted as he walked over to his wife, laying a hand on her shoulder, “Granny said you were up. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Who are you kidding?” Regina scoffed as she once again tried to shift in her bed, wincing as she catalogued her injuries, and the treatments the healer had provided.

There were bandages on her left hand, her right arm was in a sling, and the lower part of her legs were wrapped in bandages and attached to splints. Her ribs still hurt with every breath, and there was still a dull ache around her torso.

Well, this would continue to drive her mad if she didn’t do something about it.

Extracting her left hand from between Snow’s, she held it a few inches above her body; palm angled towards her feet, her eyes closed. Taking a deep breath—which made her wince as her fractured ribs protested at the expansion of her lungs—she called forth her magic, and as soon as she had the words “ _tanka harwar_ ”in her head, a plume of purple smoke wrapped around her ankles and travelled up, following the path her hand took as she moved it toward her head, the magic healing her wounds as it went.

When the smoke cleared, Regina took an experimental deep breath and released it with a smile when there was very little pain left over.

“Better?” Charming asked, arms folded.

“Much,” Regina answered, removing the sling from her shoulder and then throwing the covers back, and she began to unwrap the bandages that held the splints to her legs.

Regina started unwrapping the bandage on her left upper arm, but the whole group frowned when they saw that the cut was still there; red and scabbed over.

“Why hasn’t that one healed?” Snow asked.

Regina’s frown deepened, trying to recall how she got the injury, if memory served her it was at the start; right after her warning shot.

“Zelena did it. With her magic.”

Snow and Charming just stared at her, looking even more confused; they knew that Zelena had wounded her—that hadn’t been difficult to work out. But they couldn’t understand how that held any relevance to the reason why the cut hadn’t healed.

Taking note of the nonplussed couple, Regina let out an irritated sigh and began to explain, unwrapping the bandage on her left hand as she did so. “If magic makes a wound directly, only the caster’s magic can heal it. If magic is used to wield an object, and said object makes a wound, then anyone’s magic can heal that.”

“So,” Charming started, licking his lips as his eyebrows drew together, “Zelena made that cut with her magic.”

Regina looked up from her bandage and glanced at him. “That is what I just said,” she said exasperatedly before turning her attention back to her hand. “Obviously there are exceptions, but that’s the general rule.”

Charming looked to his wife—who still seemed to be grasping the new magical concept—and then back to Regina as he bit back a retort.

Once Regina had removed all her bandages, she looked down at herself and frowned upon the sudden realization that she was not clad in her own attire. Looking up at the other two royals in the room and then back to the huge shirt she had been dressed in, Regina’s hand gripped the side and pulled it out, judging just how many sizes too big it was.

“It’s Little John’s.” Snow offered in explanation. “Robin gave it to us; your own wardrobe was too constricting for Edwardson to see to your wounds properly.”

Regina nodded, suddenly wondering where the thief was. She hadn’t seen him in six days and, although she had been unconscious the entire time, she had still somehow missed his presence.

She didn’t need to wonder long, though; the door forcefully opened, bouncing off the wall, with Robin rushing in before he came to a stop in front of her bed. His gaze was heavy and weighted and it bored into Regina, but he said nothing. His eyes spoke for him as a myriad of emotions flashed across his face.

“I’m okay,” Regina assured, her voice gentle and soothing.

Robin seemed to relax; the anticipation in his body faded and the comforting release of tension rushed through him, knowing that Regina was fine. She was alive. Safe. And he wouldn’t allow for anything otherwise whilst he was still breathing.

The thief had no plans to let her out of his sight for a long while.

It turned out that his son felt the same way; the little boy—who had been following his father to the Queen’s room as soon as he had received the news that she was awake—ran past him and practically leaped onto Regina’s lap.

Regina couldn’t stop the smile from gracing her features as her arms came to wrap around the young boy.

“Roland!” Robin warned, “I told you that Regina was—”

“I’m fine,” Regina interrupted, before muttering a quiet “he’s fine” in reassurance.

Robin let out a small sigh and nodded, moving to sit on the spare chair. His hand rested on his boy’s leg, but his thumb was tracing over Regina’s thigh.

Regina sat in silence, listening intently to Roland’s chattering as he filled her in on all of the amusing antics that the Merry Men had been up to. Regina was nodding and humming in encouragement when the young boy paused for breath.

Charming watched as Robin’s eyes never left Regina’s face, a small smile tugging at the thief’s lips whenever Roland drew a laugh from the Queen.

“Right,” Charming started, putting his hand on Snow’s shoulder, “We should go.”

Snow shook her head, also watching the exchange between Regina and Robin Hood’s son. “It’s fine.”

“Snow,” Charming warned, pressing down a tiny bit firmer on her shoulder.

The princess shrugged him off, looking up at her husband. “I’ll leave shortly.”

“Snow…” David sighed, fairly irritable and Snow huffed.

Regina looked over at Snow and Charming and frowned at the two before turning back to Roland.

“As fascinating as this is, Roland, could you possibly wait a second?” she asked him, before whispering, “I’ll only be a moment.”

Roland nodded and snuggled into Regina, tucking his head under her chin and holding the arm she had wrapped around him.

“Snow, go,” Regina started. “Go and get something to eat, get some sleep, and have a bath and get a change of clothes—because frankly, dear, you’re beginning to smell.”

Snow took a short moment to regard Regina with a look of slight shock on her face at the brutally honest comment, before she tried to speak. “Regina—”

“Snow, leave. Spend some time with your husband, I think he’s starting to get jealous of me,” she teased. When Snow still did not move after several moments, Regina took on a slightly firmer tone. “Right, I don’t want to see you until this time tomorrow. Go and sort yourself out.”

“But—” Snow started.

Regina’s voice was fairly harsh when she ordered, “Now. Snow.”

The tone and firmness of her order took Snow back to when she was a young girl and refused to go to bed one night. The Queen had said almost the exact same thing back then, and without even thinking about it, Snow had rolled her eyes and said “yes, mother.” And she found herself doing the same thing again.

When she realised what she had said, Snow’s eyes widened and she looked at Regina with mild panic in her eyes, unsure of what the Queen’s reaction would be.

Taking pity on the girl—just this once—Regina softly chided the same remark as she used to, “Less of the cheek.”

The two shared a smile; Snow’s wide and beaming, and Regina’s small and sincere.

Regina cocked her head toward the door and Snow finally got the message and stood from her seat. Charming placed his hand on his wife’s back, throwing a thankful smile in Regina’s direction as they left the room.

Turning back to Roland, Regina was about to tell the boy to continue with his stories, but the words died in her throat when she noticed him sleeping peacefully with his eyes closed and his thumb in his mouth. The sight drew a smile to her face.

The moment the door shut, Robin turned to Regina and the serenity of the moment was broken.

“What were you thinking?” he asked, his hushed tone still making way for slight anger to bleed through.

Regina sighed. She’d already had this discussion with Widow Lucas, and she would no doubt have it with Snow and Charming when the novelty of her awakening had worn off. She did not need it from the thief as well. “Robin—”

“Or were you just not thinking at all?” he continued, interrupting.

“Look, it’s not your place to—”

“Not my place to do what? To worry? To be concerned for your safety?” The thief was apparently determined to have this conversation, regardless of Regina’s abhorrence for yet _another_ person telling her what she should or should not do. “What did you expect me to do?” he spat, “Did you think I wouldn’t care?”

Regina sighed, and Robin was annoyed by the slight roll of her eyes. “I didn’t ask you to.”

“It doesn’t matter whether you asked me to or not, the fact is that you—” When Roland stirred at the sound of his father’s voice growing louder, Robin stopped. He ran a hand over his face and sighed, “You shouldn’t have gone alone, Regina.”

“Oh?” The Queen scoffed, “And I suppose you mean to tell me that I should have brought some kind of protection with me.”

“Yes,” Robin responded in a heartbeat. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because if I had, someone could have been killed,” Regina stated. She was quickly becoming frustrated. “Robin, I am the most powerful practitioner of magic here, and look what happened.”

“We could have helped,” argued the thief. “ _I_ could have helped.”

“How? With pointy sticks? Metal poles?” Regina asked incredulously, then remembering that Roland was still resting on her knee and she should reign in her temper. “Do you not understand just how powerful magic actually is?”

Robin sighed and rolled his eyes, before earnestly responding, “Regina, I understand.”

“I don’t think you do,” she snapped, taking a moment to try and work out how she could make the outlaw understand. “Robin, if you were there, what would you try to do to protect me? Fire arrows? Now, presuming that Zelena didn’t see you before you even fired the shot and roasted your ass, she could have put up a protection barrier around herself; she could have reflected the arrow back to you; she could have deflected it to me; she could have set the actual thing alight or—if all else failed—she could have just caught it! You cannot take down someone as powerful as Zelena with an arrow, Robin. That’s child’s play.”

“Well, I could have at least tried,” Robin murmured. He was a little put out that he hadn’t realized there were so many magical options.

“You would have died. Zelena would have killed you.” Regina turned her gaze downward to the little boy curled up against her. “And I’m not going to let her hurt you. Or Roland.”

“She’s not going to harm us, Regina.”

Regina’s gaze turned away from Roland’s sleeping form to stare outside her balcony.

Robin frowned at the Queen’s lack of biting response. He reached over and placed his hand over one of hers, “We’re staying the castle because it’s the safest place for us, Regina.”

“Exactly,” said Regina as she turned to face him, “So stay in the castle.”

“Fine, but the next time I’m going with you to keep an eye out,” he declared. “Even if it’s just to ensure that you make it back to safety.”

Regina rolled her eyes and let out another sigh; they were back to square one again. “She would know if you were there, Robin.”

“I’d stay hidden,” he protested, “I’m a thief, as you keep reminding me, your majesty. I’m quite adept at hiding.”

“No.”

“Regina—”

“No. You are not coming with me. End of discussion.” Regina noted the outlaw’s mouth open, ready to retort, and she spoke again before he could get a word out. “If anything happened to you, Roland would be on his own. I’m not going to be responsible for that.”

Robin sighed, finally relenting at the slight hitch in Regina’s voice and the mention of his son. “Well, what about the prince? Or—”

“If anything happened to Charming, it would be the end of Snow. Those two are the same heart and soul. There’s no splitting them up,” Regina huffed and muttered, “Believe me; I’ve tried many a time.”

“Then what about your knights?”

“The knights have people too; wives, children… They all have people they need to live for.” Regina gently shrugged her shoulders, averting her gaze, “I don’t have anyone. I’m expendable. And if that means that—”

Regina was cut off by Robin grasping her chin and leaning forward to bring his lips to hers.

It took Regina a few seconds to realize what was happening, but Robin had pulled away before she even had a chance to kiss him back. Leaning forward, Regina recaptured the outlaw’s lips, swiping her tongue to taste his and letting out a quiet moan. As she suddenly remembered the little boy resting on her knee, Regina turned the kiss into several lingering pecks, careful to not get too carried away—regardless of how much she was tempted to.

When they parted, Robin pulled back and looked Regina in the eye. “You are not expendable. Not to me. Have you got that?”

“I…” Regina paused, eyes wide, searching for words—but nothing came to her.

So, for once, she was actually thankful when the door opened and her time with the outlaw was cut short.

Roland shifted in her lap, rubbing his eyes with his fists as he stirred. Robin sat back down in his chair with a scowl, and then turned to look at the door with a glare.  He felt that, perhaps, he might have gotten somewhere if it weren’t for the people who had walked in—his glare grew more fierce as he noticed that the intruders were a few of his own Merry Men.

Those traitors.

George walked in first, holding yet another bouquet of fresh flowers for the Queen. Will was second, with a small smile growing upon his face at the sight of Roland cuddled up into Regina. There was an older man with kind eyes that Regina had seen before, and a young, fresh-faced teenager trailing behind him—they were both looking around the huge chambers in awe. Robin later introduced them as Alan-a-Dale and Much, respectively.

Regina paid no mind to the men’s words of good health to her—she only nodded and tried her best to smile when they looked to her for a response. Her mind was preoccupied with other thoughts; she was caught up in Robin’s declaration. He had seemed to actually be concerned about her. And the thought that perhaps their little “distraction” was no longer _just_ a distraction was pushed back in her mind, behind the unusual feeling in the pit of her stomach, knowing that she mattered to someone.

This was why Regina had made Robin agree to the “no feelings” rule; emotions clouded her judgement. But she looked over to Robin, gazing at his son, and saw his features melt. His eyes filled with love and a gentle smile appeared on his face.

And for a short while, she let herself relax and enjoy the company of the thief, his son and the Merry Men. She would work out everything else later.

…

It was late. It was dark. It was cold.

Robin didn’t care.

His mind was running wild. He had left Regina’s room earlier with his Merry Men and Roland, after he had noticed that Regina’s temper was growing shorter as her desire to rest grew stronger. Since then, his mind had been full of hopeless wanderings; of everything that could have happened to the Queen. He had been thrown headfirst into the realisation that he did indeed care for her—though in what capacity, he had no idea.

But he knew that he could not take a step back now; not when he saw a smile on her face that was so beautiful that it was impossible to not return it, and when he saw her laugh with bright eyes he saw her as a woman untainted by evil and darkness. And Robin yearned for a time when he could kiss her and hold her and take her whenever and wherever he so desired.

He wanted that now. He wanted to feel her body around his, he wanted to hear her breathing heavily as she moaned his name and he wanted to see her come apart under him, warm and safe and _alive_ in his arms.

Robin knocked on Regina’s door, shifting his weight from one foot to the other with his hands in his pockets, and as soon as she opened her door he was on her—taking her face in his hands, he kissed her; moving his lips over hers and brushing his tongue over her lower lip before she could even process the idea of returning the favour.

Regina moaned, her hands coming up to grasp his elbows as she stepped forward into him, parting her lips. But before she could pull him closer or bite his lip or anything else that she wanted _so desperately_ to do, he pulled away.

“Are you alright?” he asked, running his hands down her arms and taking her hands into his own.

 “I’m fine,” responded Regina.

“I mean are you well enough for _this_?”

Regina smirked. “I’ll always be well enough for this, Robin.”

“Are you sure?” he checked, thumbs tracing over the back of her hand.

She answered by pressing her lips to his, allowing the kiss to be gentle for a while before she started nipping at his lower lip, gripping his shirt and then tugging at the hem of it so that she could feel his body against hers.

Robin’s hands gripped her hips and he started pushing her backward, walking with her to the canopy bed, until her knees hit the mattress and he had to wrap an arm around Regina’s back to keep the momentum from forcing her down.

He had other plans in mind.

Turning them until they faced the opposite direction, the thiefsat down on the Queen’s bed. His grip on Regina’s hips kept her exactly where she was; standing between his knees. Bringing his hands up to the front of her robe, Robin deftly untied the knot of the deep navy sash that kept the dark, silk fabric wrapped around her and he parted his lips on a deep exhale when the material parted and showed the matching nightdress underneath. It only came to mid-thigh and the black lace that trimmed the hem and the neckline contrasted starkly with her olive skin. 

Robin ghosted his hands up the edges of her robe, trailing his fingers up to her collarbone before slowly pushing the garment off of her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. The outlaw’s hand came up to rest on the small of her back and brought her even closer to him, forcing his legs further apart to accommodate her.

“Robin…” Regina breathed. The emotion in his gaze and his gentle touch made her feel more exposed to him than she ever had before.

He hushed her, pressing several close mouthed kisses along the lace adorning her neckline, sliding his fingers under the thin straps holding the dress up and easing them off her shoulders. The silk fell, lingering over her breasts and hips before it met the matching robe on the floor.

At the sight of the green lightning marring her skin—slightly more faded than they had been the first time he noticed, but still all too visible for his liking—Robin frowned. He leaned forward and trailed several kisses down her torso, feeling the hitch in her breath under his lips.

When he sat back and placed his hands on her hips, his thumbs tracing over smooth skin, he softly asked her, “What is this?”

“It’s…” Robin looked up at her, silently begging her to not brush him off like she had done to everyone else “It’s Zelena’s magic,” she confessed.

Robin traced a finger over one of the long, jagged green lines. “Will it stay like this?”

“No, it will go away in a few days,” replied Regina, her voice soft and quiet.

Robin nodded, his gaze still transfixed on her skin. “Does it hurt?”

“Not at the moment.” Regina took his hands in hers and removed them from where they were tracing over her torso, “Robin, forget about it. I’ll be fine.”

He turned her left hand over in his and traced his fingers over the skin on the palm that he had seen torn, pressing a kiss there before he turned his attention elsewhere. He smoothed his hands over her ribs, her back, her shoulders—everywhere he had seen bruises. When Regina breathed his name again, it sounded a lot more like a warning—although what she was warning him against, he was unsure.  When his hands came up to cup her face, tracing a thumb over where an abrasion had marred the soft skin on her right cheekbone, Regina closed her eyes and let herself lean into his touch.

“Robin…” Regina started with a sigh, “what are you doing?”

His first response was to wonder if it wasn’t obvious what he was doing; he had asked her if she was well enough for _“this”_ , and between the kisses and his divesting of her, surely it wasn’t _that_ difficult for her to work out what he was doing.

“I’m taking care of you,” he said, the tone of his voice showing his confusion in her lack of understanding.

Regina scoffed. “I don’t need to be ‘taken care of.’ And I don’t usually do gentle, Robin.”

“I’m just making sure you’re okay,” Robin responded, gently tracing her lips with his thumb, hoping to stop any snappy retort.

She managed to reply “I’m fine,” her voice somewhat harsher than before, when he kissed her, halting any more arguments saying that she was perfectly okay—because he knew she wasn’t.

Neither was he.

He may not have personally been involved in the fight, nor had he been injured the way that she had, but the way that the panic and dread had gripped his heart and not released for the six days earlier still greatly affected him. He had seen Regina hurt and—for what was probably the first time since he had met her a few months prior—he had been shown just how _human_ she was; she was not infallible, not indestructible. And whilst she may have been the strongest person he knew, she was not immune to harm.

And then Snow and Charming had told him—in their own ways—to take care of Regina and to treat her right, and he had found himself agreeing; making promises to never hurt her and refusing to let her push him away. The thought occurred to him that, perhaps, he _was_ getting in too deep. Perhaps Will had been right in his assumption that Robin would get drawn in too far, too quickly. The thief had a feeling that their agreement to “no feelings” was going to come up again at some point. It was inevitable.

And if she kept on kissing him in the way that she was,it would happen sooner rather than later.

Her hands came up to frame his face as she tilted her head, her nose brushing his cheek as she opened her mouth under his, letting out a moan as the tips of his fingers trailed down her spine.

“Regina—” Robin started, but Regina—refusing to let him say anything even remotely “gentle” to her and having still not fully comprehended what he had said to her earlier—nipped and sucked at the spot below his ear that she had discovered made him groan and lose all track of his thoughts.

“Not fair,” Robin breathed, his hands flexing at her hips and bringing her body forward for something to grind against, the coarse material of his trousers roughly rubbed against her bare skin as the building tension in him eased slightly.

“Didn’t anyone tell you?” Regina teased with a sharp nip to his neck, “I never play fair.”

Robin’s urge to be completely tender—for fear of hurting her in any way, however pleasurable she may find it—had mostly faded away, and a wave of lust took over him. His grip on her body tightened, the grind of his hips became harsher, and upon a particularly powerful suck to his neck he tilted his head and recaptured Regina’s lips with a groan.

As her tongue stroked his, Regina brought her hands up to his shirt and swiftly unfastened every button before he could even comprehend what was happening. When her hands unfastened his belt and he felt the waistband becoming loose around his hips, Robin took them in his own and kept their joined hands at his sides, lacing their fingers together and trailing a row of kisses from the corner of her jaw down past her collar bone towards her sternum. He pressed a lingering kiss to each nipple, smiling as they hardened and goose-bumps decorated her chest.

With his eyes locked on hers, Robin pushed her back a step and then knelt at her feet, grinning at her deep intake in breath. His hands trailed up her legs, from ankle to thigh and then back down again. Hooking one hand behind the back of her right knee, Robin raised it until her foot was resting on the bed behind him, making her right hand fly to his shoulder for balance.

He dragged his lips up the inside of her thigh, pressing a few sporadic kisses on his journey to a place he had missed—probably more than he should—over the past near-week. When his lips trailed over her sensitive skin—just an inch or two above where she needed it—Regina gasped, and the hand not resting on his shoulder moved to grasp a handful of his hair, directing his mouth just a little further down until he was _there_ and treating her to long, slow licks.

Regina’s head fell back, her long hair brushing against the hand he had resting high on her backside—the one keeping her secure to him and firmly kneading her ass whenever his tongue brushed past her entrance.

“Robin…” Regina moaned breathlessly.

When he looked up, the Queen had her eyes closed and her bottom lip between her teeth. Robin groaned and pulled her to him again, burying his face between her legs and adding just a bit more vigour to his movements.

Robin winced as the grip Regina had on his hair tightened enough for him to feel a good few strands being pulled out. He sucked her clit between his lips and flicked his tongue back and forth, enjoying the sharp cry he heard from above him.

Upon a particularly harsh suck, Regina whimpered and nearly fell forward, her elbow locking as her fingertips dug into Robin’s shoulder.

“I can’t do this,” Regina breathed, running a shaky hand through her hair once she had removed it from his. Robin pulled back, concern taking over his features, and upon seeing his expression she breathily clarified. “Standing up... I can’t do this standing up.”

“Oh.” Robin stood with a cocky grin, licking his lips before he stepped to the side and swept his arm out towards the bed, “After you milady.”

With a smirk of her own, Regina moved so that she was between the thief and her bed. Holding his gaze, she moved backward, lifting one knee and then the other until she was kneeling at the edge of her mattress. Biting her lip, she grabbed at the open edges of Robin’s shirt, pulling him with her as she moved higher up the bed, ensuring that the thief had no choice but to follow her.

With a low chuckle, Robin wrapped his arm around Regina’s hips and crawled forward with her. But his trousers finally slid off his hips and bunched around his knees, hindering the outlaw’s next move so much that he overbalanced, falling forward and taking Regina with him.

They ended up sprawled out side by side, heads nearly colliding on the pillow as their legs tangled together.

They looked at each other for a few seconds, before laughter bubbled out of them. Robin was unable to do anything more than rest his head in the crook of Regina’s neck and chuckle whilst she rolled her eyes and tilted her head back.

Regina removed her knee from where it had become wedged between the outlaw’s thighs and pushed at the difficult garment with her toes until she heard the faint thud of his trousers falling off the bed.

Robin raised his head and rested it back on the pillow, looking at the smile on Regina’s face and the light in her eyes, thinking about how he had nearly lost the opportunity to see such a sight ever again. The matching smile on his own lips faded as his gaze became intense, his hand reaching up to cup Regina’s cheek.

“Don’t,” Regina warned.

“Don’t what?” Robin asked, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Get sentimental.”

“I’m not…I just…” Robin closed his eyes and sighed. “You almost died, Regina. Allow me one momen—”

“No,” Regina sniped. “Robin, seriously. Don’t.”

“Why not?”

“It makes me feel nauseous,” Regina quipped after a small pause. Then, upon seeing the light in the outlaw’s eyes fade a little, she jokingly added, “And me throwing up would be one hell of a mood killer.”

They both chuckled, and Robin conceded that, perhaps, he should keep sentimentality to himself—at least until she was a bit more receptive of him. For a short time, he forgot that up until a few weeks earlier, she would have done anything to ensure that the two of them weren’t even left in the same room together.

Regina leaned forward and kissed Robin again; trying to re-ignite the passion he had treated her to a few moments ago, before he had started trying to draw emotion out of her. Regina didn’t want to feel any emotion; it only made things complicated and attracted heartbreak to her like a beacon.

Regina just wanted to feel Robin inside her, making her come alive. None of this “you almost died” folly; she only wanted him to whisper dirty things in her ear as he made her body shudder and writhe in pleasure.

When she dug her teeth into Robin’s bottom lip, dragging her foot up his calf and grabbing the collar of his shirt—which should have been removed ages ago—Regina got her wish. The thief wrapped an arm around her and pulled her on top of him, his other hand coming up to tangle in her hair.

Grinning against his lips in victory, Regina shifted one of her legs to rest in between his, moving her thigh against Robin’s hard member until he growled, suddenly hiking her other leg up around his waist and rolling them over. Her features twisted upon a gasp and she shifted away from him.

Robin apologised and gentled his touch, kissing her again before she could mutter anything resembling “I’m fine.” Refusing to let Regina deepen the kiss, he let his hands roam over her skin; so lightly that it almost tickled her. As pleasantly tingling as that was, it was just not enough.

The Queen brought her hands up and grasped his face, tilting her head in an attempt to encourage more heat and passion from the thief. But he gave her nothing of the sort, his mouth moving gently over hers and his hands merely holding her instead of grabbing her like she needed him to.

Regina pulled away, closed her eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Robin… I’m not going to break,” Regina said, cupping his face and looking him in the eyes, “Take me how you want to.”

The outlaw sighed, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m alive, Robin.” Regina closed her eyes as his forehead met hers, their breath mingling in the small space between their lips. “Prove it to me.”

The gentle part of Robin—the part raised to be chivalrous and take care of people—was reluctant to do anything that might cause Regina even the slightest discomfort. But there was a part of Robin that the Queen had set free, a part that wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her, to feel her skin burn under his hands, to hear her gasps and moans in his ear, to make her heart beat so hard that he could see it through her chest…

The gentleman inside him never stood a chance.

“Fine,” Robin growled through gritted teeth, hiking her leg up higher, adjusting his hips and then thrusting forward until he was buried in her to the hilt.

Regina couldn’t help but cry out “yes!” as her back arched off the bed, her hands moving into his hair and pulling sharply.  

Robin smirked, withdrawing almost completely and then thrusting all the way back in. Regina gasped as her eyes closed, her hands coming down on his shoulders and her nails digging into his skin.

“Like that?” Robin asked, an eyebrow raised in cockiness and expectation of her—at least somewhat—regretting the idea of telling him to take her how he wanted to.

So, her breathy response of “yes, just like that” threw him; stopped him just long enough for her to dig her heel in the back of his thigh in a silent demand for him to do it again.

With a determined expression, Robin leaned back and put a hand either side of her shoulders, lifting his weight off her as he thrust once, twice, three more times, before Regina drew her other leg up around his hips and clenched around him. Robin’s head fell forward and he groaned into her neck.

Regina’s order of “pick up the pace, Robin” was spoken directly into his ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down his spine. She followed it with her hands, her fingers trailing under his shirt—that Regina needed off, but she could not bear the thought of stopping for the few seconds it would take to remove it—and down until she had two handfuls of the outlaw’s backside in her palms, squeezing firmly in an effort to motivate him to move his hips quicker.

Robin had missed this.

Yes, it had only happened on two occasions, before—once the first evening, and multiple times the other—but it had been ample opportunity for him to taste the sweet addiction named Regina Mills. And he had missed it dearly.

Six days was far too long.

Robin shifted his weight to lie on one forearm and worked a hand between Regina’s back and her sheets, until his fingers touched the dip of her spine. He lifted her hips and started thrusting into her again, and he drew an unroyal gasp of “ _fuck!_ ” from her parted lips as her legs slipped from his sides to land on the bed.

As his thrusts became more powerful, more erratic, Regina’s back arched off the sheets; her hips dipped back down to the bed, until Robin tightened his arm around her and forced her body up to mould against his, to keep that angle that had their breaths hitching and pulses racing.

Robin leaned forward, completely resting against Regina as his arm still supported her hips from where it was pinned between the Queen and her bed. The extra friction of his every thrust against her clit had her hand reaching up behind her to grab the pillow case as she gasped.

“Don’t _ever_ do something that stupid again,” Robin whispered into her neck. “Please.”

Regina’s hands moved to rest between his shoulder blades, with a small sigh. “Robin…”

“Promise me,” he pleaded, laying a trail of kisses along her jawline. “Just this, and I’ll leave it alone. Promise me, Regina.”

It was a few seconds before she breathed, “I promise.”

It was a lie. He knew it was; if Regina wanted to do something, she would do it—regardless of any agreement. She was just _so_ incredibly stubborn. But, if he at least made her consider that someone actually cared about her before she made any more rash decisions…well, Robin could live with that.

The slightly emotional moment—thankfully—over, Regina rocked her hips and clenched around him, encouraging him to resume the perfect rhythm that had had her gasping and writhing, before he decided to slow it down and try to _talk_ to her. Regina wasn’t one for “talks” and especially not when there were _much_ better things to be doing with their mouths than exchanging words.

Bringing a hand up to dig her fingertips into Robin’s neck, she brought his head down to meet hers; lips colliding and noses brushing against each other’s in a kiss that may have lacked finesse, but set them both alight nonetheless.

Robin dragged his lips away from caressing hers and moved them to her neck, panting into her skin as he brought a hand in between them and thumbed at her clit, drawing a pleasured cry from the Queen.

Regina gasped out “Robin…”, but then trailed off as she whimpered and her hands scratched at his back, trying to find purchase.

Robin just about managed to grunt out “what?” in question, before he bit into her neck to stifle a loud groan.

Her response was lost in the climb toward her peak. All words were blocked from her mind as she felt wave after wave of pleasure wash over her, tightening the coil inside her until she could barely breathe.

Robin raised himself back onto his forearms, holding back on his release to watch Regina; the flush spreading over her skin, the crinkles around her eyes as they screwed shut and the indentations she made in her lip as she dug in her teeth into it, in order to prevent herself from crying out.

She was stunning.

Regina’s throaty moan of “Robin,” pushed him over the edge, and he was unable to stop himself from burying himself into her a few more times before he stilled, quietly groaning as he rolled to the side, his eyes closing as he slowly let out a sigh through pursed lips.

It took them both a short while to recover; Robin resting on his back, turning his head to watch Regina as she lay with an arm over her forehead, eyes closed and trying to calm her breathing and heart rate.

Robin could only watch for a few seconds before he sighed and turned his gaze to the ceiling with a frown. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when this became something more than a distraction to him, but from the sudden intensity of his need to protect her, to keep her safe and smiling that beautiful smile of hers, he knew it must have been a while ago. And it had not been by choice.

But he just couldn’t find it in himself to wish that he felt differently.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, I sincerely apologise for the huuuuge delay in this but I’ve had two pieces of coursework to do, some close friends’ fics to help out with, busy weekends at home, lots of sleep… life has been very busy recently.
> 
> So I was determined to finish this and get it updated today before a month passes by since my last update (because a freaking month is a long time) so it’s here. Now, in my haste to update this for you lovely people I’ve not sent this to my dear Sammy, I’ve had Bela – author of ‘Red’ which you should totally check out if you’re not already: Isah Underhill is her penname on ff.net – check it over to just make sure it’s not dull or tedious or too ‘talky’ in places. So forgive any stupid mistakes of mine and just pretend you didn’t see them :)
> 
> As always, please comment or whatever :) because honestly, it makes me smile so much to have people tell me what they think of my stuff.
> 
> So thank you for putting up with my appalling updating, and hope this kinda makes up for it somewhat
> 
> xXx

Having spent the majority of last night and most of her morning thinking about what was going on between her and Robin Hood, Regina was walking to the dining hall still wrapped up in her thoughts of just where she and the outlaw stood. They could no longer classify themselves as ‘enemies with benefits’ or ‘fuck buddies’ or whatever modern-world label would be placed on them. But to say that they were ‘friends’ just seemed a little too strange for Regina. Because that was not what they were. Not really.

It was something different. They were no longer anywhere near the ‘enemies’ they had been towards the start, they had gone straight past ‘allies’ into the ‘partners’ zone when he had started helping out with the whole there’s-a-green-witch-trying-to-destroy-me issue. Then they had become ‘partners who flirt’ when they actually realised that they were attracted to each other but refused to make a move, and settled for just throwing insults and innuendos at each other instead. Then Robin _had_ made a move and they had become ‘partners who had sex’ – or at least _tried_ to before the pretentious little princess managed to interrupt them at _every single moment_ they had together. And then somehow they had progressed from biting retorts and witty banter to actually being _nice_ to each other from time to time. And more than that; actually caring, until they had become somewhat closer to the ‘friendly’ area than Regina had felt in such a long time. And, if Regina admitted it to herself – which she had, albeit incredibly reluctantly – they were probably edging towards the ‘lovers’ category lately, what with the verbal declarations of sentiment, soft touches and gentle caresses.

But – with a firm nod – Regina decreed that they would firmly stay at whatever they were now, nothing else; the sex was good and it was actually nice to occasionally feel cared about for a short while. But anything further than this would make them more 'lovers' than anything else and that was not going to happen. At all.

A noise that wasn’t the clicking of her heels or the swish of her full skirts drew Regina’s attention out of her internal ponderings.

She knew it was Roland before she saw him; his incessant chatting to whoever he had dragged with him from breakfast was animated enough to carry around the corner and drift to Regina’s ears, bringing a small smile to her face.

Her smile widened when the little boy came into view; one hand was waving in the air as he imitated some kind of ‘ _huge beast with teeth and claws that goes rawwr’_ , and another was clinging onto one of George’s, who was staring at his friend’s son with a look of pure adoration.

At this point, Regina was pretty sure she had the same look etched into her features too.

The Queen cleared her throat, loud enough to draw George’s gaze up to hers, but apparently not loud enough to interrupt Roland’s interesting ramblings. The man gave her a smile, and Regina gave him one in return, before her gaze flitted back down to the young boy still chatting away without a care in the world.

George squeezed Roland’s hand, softly saying his name in order to drag him from his wonderful imagination, and then, once the little boy had looked up at him in curiosity, he nodded down the corridor and whispered; “look who it is.”

He let go of Roland’s hand, knowing that the little boy had a certain fondness for the Queen and would most likely drag him across the floor in his hurry to get to her if they were still attached.

Sure enough, when Roland looked down the hallway and saw Regina, he let out an excited gasp and ran straight to her. Regina bent down slightly when he got closer, holding her arms out to the side somewhat with a small smile, and Roland just jumped and wrapped his arms around her neck. With a laugh, Regina stood and folded her arms underneath him, hoisting him higher up her torso and lightly swinging him from side to side when his legs had wrapped around her too.

“Hello Roland,” she said, voice light, laughing softly at the unexpectedly pleasant greeting.  

George smiled at the two as he walked over, before inclining his head and addressing Regina with; “good morning, your majesty.”

“Morning,” she replied, with a wide smile of her own, feeling decidedly lighter than she had done in a long while. Something about this young boy brought more heartfelt smiles from her than the false ones she had mastered a long time ago.

It must run in the family.

When Regina tried to lean back to see Roland’s face – which had resolutely stayed in the junction between her neck and shoulder – the little boy just clung tighter. Regina frowned.

“Roland? What’s the matter?”

“I think he’s just glad you’re alive and well.” George offered. “It was a bit of a shock for him to find you like he did. I think he’s just making sure you’re ok.”

Regina’s eyes snapped to George’s.

‘Find her’? As in; he was the one to find her after her battle with Zelena? Regina knew Robin had been the one to bring her into the castle; the Merry Men had joked about it when they had come to visit her. Alan-a-Dale had forgotten himself and commented _how could Robin have possibly carried such a heavy load?_ and then had looked to Regina with panicked eyes as if to say ‘please don’t hurt me’. The sheer relief in his eyes when she quipped “at least he wasn’t carrying _you_ ” was enough to make her laugh alongside the others; it appeared she hadn’t lost her intimidating touch just yet.

So yes, Regina knew Robin had been the one to carry her inside. But she had no idea that sweet, innocent, little Roland had been the one to actually find her.

Her arms tightened around the boy still holding onto her, not wishing to think about where his thoughts must have taken him that night in her gardens.

George’s small smile faded at the guilt that washed over the Queen’s features, before she turned her head to mutter ‘I’m sorry’ into Roland’s ear.

Stepping forward, George placed his hand on Roland’s back, looking to Regina. “But her Majesty is fine now, right?” he asked encouragingly, gaze locked on the Queen’s.

Regina’s voice lacked its usual bite when she said; “yes, I’m fine.”

“See?” Roland’s head turned to look up at his father’s good friend from its spot on the Queen’s shoulder. “Her Majesty is perfectly ok.”

Finally leaning back, Roland looked at Regina’s face, putting his hands on both her cheeks and asking; “you’re really ok?”

Regina smiled before confirming; “I’m really ok.”

Roland beamed before leaning forwards and pressing the tip of his nose to Regina’s. After scrunching up her own nose, then letting out a little huff of air and grinning, Regina sobered, bending to put Roland on the floor and kneeling in front of him. “Now then, we need to talk.”

“We do?” Roland asked with a frown. Regina nodded. “What about?”

“You saved me.” Regina declared.

Roland shook his head, protesting; “Papa saved you. Mr. Healer man saved you.”

“They would not have been able to do anything if you hadn’t been there to find me.” Regina pointed out with a smile. “So thank you Roland. You were my little knight in shining armour.”

The little boy beamed. “Really?”

“Really. And do you know what happens when knights do something very brave?” Roland shook his head, listening intently. “They get a reward.”

Regina’s smile widened as Roland’s face lit up, his bottom lip between his teeth as he started bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Regina had barely finished asking him “What would you like?” when Roland enthusiastically shouted; “A pet dragon!”

“Roland, mate, you can’t have a pet dragon.” George said in a long-suffering tone which clearly meant this was not the first time the boy had asked for this particular gift.

Regina frowned when Roland’s beaming smile faded, before he asked very quietly; “why not?”

George went to speak, but Regina cut him off before he could manage one word. “I don’t think a dragon would have enough space here. And there are lots of people in this castle, some can be very noisy; it might get a bit scared. And, we don’t want it setting fire to our home with its firey-breath now, do we?”

With a resigned smile, Roland shook his head with a small “no”. Then his face lit up with excitement again, “Akupara!”

Regina couldn’t help but smile; yet again with the mythical beings, if it wasn’t a dragon it was a giant tortoise. “How about we stay away from pets that would take up half the castle, hmm?”

“Ok.” Roland said, looking down at the floor, pressing his lips together in a firm line.

Regina hooked a finger under Roland’s chin and lifted his face to hers, gently asking; “Is there anything else that you’d like?”

The young boy’s face screwed up in concentration, before his eyes lit up again as another idea came to him. “Cake!”

Regina couldn’t help but laugh at the boy’s shout. “Cake?”

Cake was better; Regina could work with cake.

“What flavour?” She asked.

“I dunno.” Roland shrugged. “What do you like, Majesty?”

Regina hummed in thought for a moment. “Well, I like vanilla, with jam and cream in the middle.” She answered before she leaned forward and – as if it was a _huge_ secret – quietly confessed; “but my absolute favourite is chocolate cake.”

“I want chocolate cake.” Roland declared.

“Chocolate cake it is.”

“Will you use your good magic to make it me, majesty?” Roland asked.

“Magic? My dear, I _bake_ the best chocolate cake ever, all by myself.” Regina boasted, placing her hands on her hips. “Although it’s probably best if you don’t tell Widow Lucas that. She wouldn’t be best pleased.”

“Ok. Can I help?” Roland asked, clasping his hands in front of him as he added a heartfelt “please”.

“Of course you can.” Regina smiled, before quipping; “I doubt you’re going to learn cooking skills from your father.”

An indignant “I heard that” from behind her made the Queen turn to see the Outlaw striding up to her with an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk.

“Are you denying it?” Regina asked from her position on the floor, bent before his son.

Robin didn’t get to answer before Roland barrelled past Regina and ran up to his father, jabbering away about how Regina was going make him a cake and he was going to help and he was her knight in shining armour and she said he was brave. Robin couldn’t help but smile as he was prevented from getting a single word in.

Regina watched with a sad smile at the young boy’s excitement.

George stepped up beside her and offered her his right hand, she looked up at him before taking it, standing and brushing creases out of her skirts.

“You’re great with him,” George said softly.

Regina’s gaze fell to the floor with a slight smile, “thank you.”

“I don’t mean to pry,” George started, “but your son; you raised him on your own?”

Regina’s expression fell, memories flashing before her eyes; lifting Henry out his crib and holding him to her when he was crying at night; watching with a beaming smile and tears in her eyes as he took his first steps; kissing scraped knees; opening messily wrapped presents; smiling as she enjoyed burnt toast and weak coffee in bed; camping in a pillow fort with a movie and popcorn in the front room when it rained too much to play outside…

Lifting her gaze to the ceiling and blinking away the tears that had gathered in her eyes, Regina’s voice was shaky when she confirmed; “I did.”

“That’s very admirable.” George softly stated, turning to her just in time to see her watery smile before she ducked her head. “I bet you’re a great mother.”

“I try my best to be.” Regina stated, resisting the urge to let tears fall, before quietly murmuring; “For a while I wasn’t…”

“How so?” George asked.

Regina blinked and turned to him. She had never really spoken about this – had only admitted it to herself on lonely nights when her thoughts turned to self-loathing and her tendency to hurt everyone she held most dear – and yet here she was, debating just how much she wanted to admit to.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust George, because she did; he was one of the very few people to openly ask her for her friendship, despite being hunted by her and her men for a time during her reign as Queen. But admitting weaknesses? Admitting faults and regrets? It went against everything Regina had been instilled with all her life.

But she had made a vow to Henry, to be a better person, to change into someone worthy of being loved and cared for. And if she was ever going to start actually _talking_ then she was going to do so around people she trusted.

 _That may as well start now,_ Regina thought with a sigh.

“I was more like my own mother than the one I wanted to be,” Regina tensely admitted, “the one Henry deserved.”

She held her breath, her gaze firmly fixed on little Roland as she awaited George’s response, preparing herself for whatever judgement she’d hear in his voice.

“So,” George started, “you decided to go against everything you used to be, because you felt someone you loved deserved more from you?”

“Yeah,” Regina responded.

George shook his head and looked down the floor. “I can’t imagine how difficult that must be.”

“Henry made it worth it.” Regina said with a small smile and a faraway look in her eyes, “Whenever I’d reach that point where I’d be tempted to fall back a step or two, or whenever I thought I wasn’t strong enough, he’d be there, in the back of my mind telling me I was.” George looked over to her, cataloguing the shining eyes and the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips before it faded when she quietly added; “he still is.”

George reached out to his side and wrapped his fingers around Regina’s petite hand, squeezing slightly as he said; “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Regina dismissed, clearing her throat and then, having felt like that was enough sharing for the week – or entire month, thought of something less likely to open any more emotional floodgates to change the conversation to. 

“Just to let you know,” George started, “if you ever feel the need to talk, or even get away from royalty or that idiot over there,” his other hand came up to point at Robin – who was still trying to have a two-sided conversation with his son – and they both chuckled, “I’m not adverse to you coming to see me.”

Regina turned to face him. “Thank you, George.”

“You’re welcome, Regina.”

The two shared a smile before Roland came rushing over, grabbing the hand George had placed around Regina’s and trying to tug him down the hallway. “George, come on. Papa says you have to hold _my_ hand and come play with me.”

George chuckled, leaning down to whisper in Regina’s ear; “something tells me Robin can’t help but feel a little jealous.”

Regina looked towards Robin, who was walking over with a scowl on his face, and laughed.

“I’m gonna milk it.” George said into her ear.

He stepped back, extracting his hand from Roland before taking Regina’s again and dropping into an elaborate bow, saying “good day, milady” before pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Robin rolled his eyes and folded his arms.

“It was a pleasure to see you again, Regina” George’s eyes were firmly fixed on the Queen’s as they heard Robin huff.

Inwardly smirking, Regina decided to play along, _just this once,_ “the pleasure was all mine, George.”

They both managed to keep a straight face as George straightened, and then they turned as one to see Robin glaring at them, and they couldn’t help but let the laughter bubble out of them.

“We’re just jesting you, my friend.” George said as he clapped a hand on Robin’s shoulder. Regina laughed a little louder.

Robin couldn’t decide who to focus his glare on, and so he switched between the two. With the look in his eyes and a scowl on his face, Regina thought he was one step away from petulantly stomping his feet in a display of immaturity his son already seemed to be above.

“This isn’t going to be a common occurrence, is it?” Robin asked, gesturing between the two of them before clarifying; “joining forces to annoy me.”

“Oh, for as long as I live, my friend.” George assured, giving Regina a cheeky wink and a mischievous grin. Regina ducked her head to hide her chuckle at Robin’s sigh and the very slight blush dusting her cheeks.

“George!” Roland whined, grabbing his hand between both of his and leaning backwards trying to lead him down the corridor. He had grown tired of the grown-ups talking between them after he had been promised George would help him make a pet dragon of his own out of things he could find in the castle gardens.

Robin watched as his friend let himself be led by his son, before turning back with a loud “ _I’ll see you later_ ” when they both turned the corner.

“Yeah,” the thief grumbled, scratching the back of his head.

“I should really get going too.” Regina started, a hand to her stomach as her hunger reappeared with a quiet growl.

“Not yet you don’t.” Robin declared, turning to face her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her to him, crashing his lips down on hers.  

His hands came up to tangle in her hair and pull strands from the chignon-like hairstyle she had spent half an hour on before she had left her room. Though Regina couldn’t really find it in herself to care as her hands grasped the collar of his shirt and he backed her into the wall.

Regina was unable to supress her moan as she tried to shake off her mild shock at the thief’s sudden – but welcome – actions.

His tongue licked at the seam of her lips before his teeth dragged over her bottom lip, creating a gap that he exploited and used as entrance to explore every contour of her mouth.

Their tongues met in a fierce battle of will, his hands grasping her upper arms as hers came to rest in the crook of his elbows. Regina hooked a foot behind his ankle, making him step closer, one leg shifting between her thighs as he moved his right hand to rest on the wall above her shoulder, his other trailing past the half-corset encasing her velvet top.

Regina reached around his waist and grabbed at his shirt, the material bunching in her fists as his torso fit against hers with not an inch of space between them.

His head tilted, the hand on her hip sliding up to palm a breast through velvet as his hips rucked into hers, his thigh pressing more insistently against her when Regina’s hips rolled forward to meet him.

“You’re coming back to my room.” Robin declared once he had torn his mouth from Regina’s with a groan, his lips moving to her neck and sucking at the spot just under her jawline.

“I don’t know,” Regina responded. Her mind whirled through the list of things she had set out to do this morning, the list of things that she knew she wouldn’t get done if she gave in to the thief, but then Robin raised his hand to grasp her chin and direct her gaze to lock onto his. The list faded away.

“It wasn’t a question, milady.”                       

“Yes, sir.” Regina teased in a sultry tone, having Robin’s eyes widening, pulse quickening and pupils dilating.

“Are you going to call me that more often?” He asked, the hand grasping her chin sliding down past her neck, lingering over her breasts again before coming to rest on her hip. His gaze followed.

“Do you want me to?” Regina retorted, voice low and seductive as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trousers and pulled his hips to knock into hers.

Robin practically growled; “Yes.”

Trailing a hand up the front of his t-shirt, she hooked a finger into the green, v-neck and brought him close enough so she could whisper in his ear; “Tough luck.”

She pulled back to see him scowl. “You’re such a tease.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t love it.” Regina immediately retorted, before going back over her words and mentally cringing.

_Not the best thing you could have said, Regina._

She was saved from quickly thinking up something to say to cover herself by her stomach rumbling again, and was thankful.

“But for now, I am hungry, so you’re going to have to exercise your patience, and wait for me.”

She turned and started to walk away, both hands coming up to fix her hair – or at least attempt to, before he could say anything.

Robin’s head tilted slightly, his lower lip caught between his teeth as he appreciated the sway of her hips. Whilst he hated to see go, Robin just couldn’t help but love to watch her leave.

…

A couple of hours later, Regina collapsed beside Robin, running a hand through her loose, messy hair as she tried to regulate her breathing.

“That was…” Regina sighed, unable to think a word to adequately describe the high she was still coming down from.

“Yeah.” Robin replied, not faring any better.

Regina let out a breathy chuckle, before sighing again.

“And you call me an archer with such disdain.” Robin mocked.

Regina turned her head to look at the thief next to her. “What?” She couldn’t think of what the thief was referring to, but then he raised his first two fingers and moved them in a very suggestive manner - not unlike what he had been doing inside her not too long ago - and it all came flooding back.

Regina threw her head back onto the pillow and laughed, blush tinging her cheeks. “Indeed.”

There was another lull in conversation before Robin turned his head to look at Regina, eyes tracing over her small, satisfied smile and marvelling at how calm and peaceful she looked.

“I really like you.” Robin suddenly stated, voice quiet and yet steady. Regina was taken aback, her eyes widening somewhat as her heart rate and breathing increased in a way that had little to do with their previous activities.

He  _‘liked’_ her? Not just ‘liked’ her but ‘really liked’ her?

Had Robin said this as they were walking down a corridor, or making their way to a meeting, or any place and time other than when she had just come so hard she had screamed as stars swirled in her vision, she would have taken a literal and emotional step back. But as it was, Regina had just come undone, at the thief’s hands – and the rest of him – and it always took her a while to put all her guards back up.

And so she found herself begrudgingly admitting; “I suppose… I may like you too.”

“ _Really_ like me?” Robin prompted with a mischievous grin.

“Don’t push it.” Regina quipped. “I’ve admitted I like you, that’s enough, don’t you think?”

He rolled them over, pushing her into the mattress and then pressing a kiss to her nose, then her lips, teasing; “well I wouldn’t mind a little complement here and there…”

“Don’t let it go to your head, thief.” Regina said.

“The Evil Queen likes me.” Robin boasted with a smug grin, “there’s no higher compliment.”

“I’d like you a lot more if you were less frustrating.” She retorted.

“Ah, but that’s half the fun, your majesty. And besides,” he pulled back and rested above her on his forearms, “I like frustrating you.”

“I can tell.” Regina deadpanned.

Robin chuckled and leaned to kiss her again, combing a hand through her hair as she brought her hands up his back to grip his shoulders, tugging at this stupid green fabric which had resolutely refused to do anything they wanted, apparently working in tandem with the stretched velvet hanging off one of her shoulders that the thief had not quite had the patience to remove. Moaning against his lips, Regina wrapped a leg around him and flipped them to their former position.

“But I like frustrating you,” Regina stated with a smirk after they parted, “so we can call it even.”

They exchanged several more kisses, the heat they were pouring into their explorations more than enough to keep that desire simmering but not quite enough to ignite it again.

Then Robin titled his head forwards so their lips broke apart, their foreheads resting against each other’s as they both tried to slow their breathing.

"Why me?" Robin asked, then, upon Regina’s confused frown, elaborated; "there are numerous men who would gladly _distract_ you, your majesty…”

“Is this about George again?” Regina irritably sighed, “because I told you, he’s a _friend_ , and we were just pulling your leg earlier, we weren’t actually-”

“No, I know. It’s not about George.” Robin assured, “I trust you.”

Regina’s glare softened, as did the tone of her voice. “Then what are you talking about?”

“There are men higher up in the royal hierarchy who are interested in you, milady, men who are much more than common thieves like myself. And they do not have to organise someone to care for their son before they come and ‘distract’ you. So... Why would you choose the more difficult option?" He traced a hand up her spine and brought her closer to him, before hastily adding; "not that I'm complaining of course."

"I rarely make my life easy." She joked before becoming serious and actually mulling his question over. "Those other men want to fuck me for no other reason than to brag that they've had a Queen. It would be purely about status to them, not anything to do with me as myself.”

Regina was prepared to leave it there, but Robin hummed and said nothing else, encouraging her to continue.

“You're not here because I'm the Queen; I've made it perfectly clear others are not to know about us under any circumstances, and yet you still seek me out. You're here because of attraction, not to gain social status." Regina placed a gentle kiss to his lips, “that’s why I chose you.”

Feeling the conversation heading a little bit towards the ‘emotional’ side of the spectrum, and watching his blue eyes light up with a soft smile and feeling one of her own tug at her lips, Regina decided to draw the topic onto something a little safer. “Besides, you’re probably better in bed than they’d ever be anyway.”

“Oh really?” Robin asked, enjoying the mischievous smile that spread across Regina’s lips.

“You’re pushing your luck again.” She warned.

“Well I can’t help it if I’m the best you ever had.”

“Ah, now I never said that.” Regina protested, holding up a finger in front of him as a caution. “You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ve put in your mouth,” Robin retorted with a sly grin as his hand trailed down her thigh and he bit his lower lip.

Regina’s jaw dropped at his brazen comment for a second, before she let out a small laugh and thumped him on the shoulder.

“Are you disagreeing?” Robin asked as his hands trailed down her back to grab two handfuls of her backside.

“Well there’s not really much denying it, is there?” Regina retorted, “I mean we were both-“

“No, I mean the whole ‘being the best you’ve ever had’.” Robin interrupted, “you still haven’t confirmed that’s what you meant.”

“Does it really matter?” Regina asked with a sigh and the roll of her eyes.

Robin’s immediate response of “yes,” made the Queen chuckle.

“Oh, the male ego.” Regina mocked. “Can I think about it?” She asked, her nose scrunching up.

Robin sounded affronted when he retorted; “Do you need to?”

“Well…” Regina started, moving to lie on her side next to Robin as he dipped his head to mouth at her neck, presumably to try and sway her opinion. “I suppose… I mean, Jefferson was really good, Graham was quite good, the knights were tolerable, Leopold was a pig…” Robin snorted into Regina’s shoulder to hear the King spoken of in that matter. “Yeah… he sounded just like that.” Regina mocked.

“So… I’m the best?” Robin smirked.

Regina tilted her head away from him and lifted her chin. “I’m not saying it.”

“Go on.” He prompted, starting to trail soft kisses from her shoulder to behind her ear.

“No.”

“Regina…”

“Not saying it.” She insisted.

Robin’s voice was suggestive when he urged; “Come on, you know it’s true.”

“Well, you’re certainly the most well-endowed.”  Regina teased with a bite to her bottom lip and a quick eyebrow raise, before she scraped her nails down his torso and wrapped her hand around his length.

Robin took her hand and laced his fingers with hers, pressing their joined hands back into the pillow at the side of her head as he leaned over her. “As much of a stroke to the ego that was…“

“A pretty big _ego_ you’ve got there.” Regina teased, the double entendre making Robin roll his eyes with a chuckle.

“…that’s not what I wanted to hear.” He continued.

Regina rolled her eyes again, “well then, you’re not going to hear what you want.”

“Regina,” Robin warned, “if I can make you say ‘please’, I think I can get you to say this.”

He traced his hand over her skin, and as he passed a spot on her ribs just under her arm Regina squirmed and let out a quiet giggle. Robin stopped, looking at her as if he had just had an epiphany which answered all of life’s questions.

“Robin. No.” The glare Regina levelled at Robin would have an ordinary man scarpering while he had the chance. But Robin was no ordinary man, and apparently had no fear of dying at the Queen’s hands. He lightly traced his fingers back over the sensitive spot he had found and laughed at Regina as she scrabbled for his hand. “Robin. Stop.”

But he didn’t. His hand continued to move over her side. And when she had that hand grasped between her own, he shifted and brought his other hand to tickle the exact same spot.

“Fine,” Regina shouted breathlessly as she squirmed away from him, gasping, “fine ok. You win.”

“I win what?” Robin prompted.

“You’re…” Regina paused, rolling her eyes before hurrying through; “thebestI’veeverhad.”

Robin beamed and puffed out his chest.

“Happy now?” She asked, with a sigh.

“Immensely,” the outlaw replied before leaning forwards and taking her lower lip between his, a sweet and gentle kiss that belied the firm grip he held on her waist as he rolled to lie on top of her.

“If you do that to me again, I will kill you.” Regina quipped, only half joking, when he pulled back.

“You’ll have to find a way to get back at me, your majesty,”

“Oh, I will Outlaw.” Regina promised, before tilting her head up so her lips just brushed against his and she breathed into his mouth. “Believe me I will.”

“I look forward to it.” He growled before he crashed his mouth down on hers, lowering his weight onto one forearm so he could use his other hand to grope her breast and then move down to squeeze her arse.

Regina’s hands came up to his shoulders and pushed him back so he was lying at her side again, their legs entangled as she leaned over him to kiss him again.

“Do you miss Storybrooke?” Robin suddenly asked - just before her lips could touch his - before clarifying; “I mean the new world, the way in which you lived and how everything was different there.”

“I guess.” Regina said, looking down at her hand as it trailed patterns along his shoulder. Robin trailed the back of his fingers from her waist to her hip, humming and raising his eyebrows as if to say ‘ _carry on, I’m listening’._

“Storybrooke is – was – very modern. People were a lot more equal there; less of a class difference between the leaders and the workers, and women weren’t just property passed from one person to the next.”

The stiffness in Regina’s tone and the way her gaze hardened had Robin picking up the hand resting on his shoulder and pressing a kiss to it, watching as she came back to him with a slow blink before continuing.

“Life was a lot easier there. I mean we had cars and telephones and indoor plumbing…”

“Um, I don’t know what they are,” Robin said, his brow furrowing in the same adorable way his son’s did, and Regina couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, cars are like carriages, but they don’t have horses; they work by themselves, and can travel a lot faster. Indoor Plumbing is the world’s greatest invention ever that you don’t realise how beautiful it is until you’re back to Enchanted Forest standards. And telephones are devices that let you talk to people regardless of how far away they are.”

“They sound useful.” Robin stated, before asking; “Could you not create them here?”

Regina thought about it for a moment, the idea becoming worse with every second passed. “The roads aren’t really suitable for cars here, and the indoor plumbing would create more trouble than it’s worth.”

“Oh,”

“But the telephones? There are enchanted objects which work in the same manner.” Regina brought her hand palm-up, and with a puff of purple smoke, she had a black, rectangular gemstone hung on plaited leather dangling from her fingers.

The hand Robin had been steadily trailing up and down her side moved to loosely wrap around her wrist, his fingers over her pulse point and his thumb rubbing patterns on the heel of her hand. “What’s that?”

“It’s… an enchanted forest telephone.” Regina explained, “You hold this, and then whoever holds the other part can hear you and speak to you.”

“Well why can’t you just make lots of these?”

“You don’t _make_ the stones; you find them.” Regina explained. “Besides, I’m loathe to create anything that will give Snow yet another opportunity to call me when I’d rather she didn’t.”

“I agree with you on that one.” Robin stated with a slight pout before he watched Regina flick her wrist and the ‘enchanted forest telephone’ disappeared. “So where do you keep that?”

“My chambers. In a box on my dresser that houses little trinkets I may need within arm’s reach.”

Before Robin could ask anything else they heard Friar Tuck’s booming laugh as if he was right outside Robin’s door, they both froze and turned to look in the direction the laugh seemed to come from, Robin anticipating a knock and Regina preparing her magic to transport herself to her room should the door move even an inch.

But his laughter faded away, as did the faint voice – of apparently the funniest person in the castle – accompanying it.  

Robin turned to look back at Regina, and for a second neither of them moved, just letting their eyes roam over the other. When Robin tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, gently pressing his lips to hers before pulling back and smiling, Regina suddenly realised that they were just lying in bed, exchanging kisses, talking about nothing, and it all just suddenly felt slightly too domestic.

So Regina extracted herself from his strong arms, stood, redressed herself.

Robin propped himself up on his elbow and watched as she secured her skirts and tied the corset around the middle enhancing her figure. Feeling the distance between them growing a little more than the few feet they were apart, Robin swung his legs over the side of the bed and grabbed his trousers, pulling them on and righting his shirt before walking over to stand between Regina and the door.

“I’ll see you later?” he asked, smoothing a crease in the fabric on her shoulder.

Regina nodded with an affirmative hum, still fastening her necklace. Robin mutters ‘good’ before cupping her cheek and kissing her again, letting his mouth languidly move over hers. He went to take a step back, intending to pull Regina with him so he could rest against the door and keep her to himself for a little while longer, but she read his intentions and backed up a few steps in the other direction, pulling him with her.

When Regina gently pushed him away from her, he opened his eyes to see a lazy smile on her lips and a content light in her eyes. _That’s better._

The moment was broken before Robin could lean back down when Regina pulled away and took a step to the side, trailing a hand down his torso with a chuckle. As she brushed past him, Robin not-so-gently swatted her backside in jest, but at the Queen’s quiet gasp and the flush on her cheeks, he looked at her with a thoroughly amused smile. “Your majesty?”

Regina ducked her head and muttered “I’m leaving” as she walked away from him.

But Robin pulled her back against him before she could get far, wrapping his arms around her torso and bringing his mouth to her ear to growl suggestively; “I might do that next time.”

Regina rested her hands on his arms, turning her head to look at his lips, up to his eyes, then back down again, before she responded; “I might let you.”

Then she pushed his arms away, walking to the door before turning back to him and adding a teasing; “or I might not.”

Robin smirked and folded his arms. “Something tells me you will.”

Regina ducked her head again, grabbing the handle of the door, reiterating; “I’m going.”

She turned back to look at him and smiled, before leaving and making her way back to her room. The subconscious, slight grin tugging at her lips took a long while to fade away. 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so I know this took a little bit longer than I said it would, but in my defence… I get distracted very easily, ask anyone who knows me.  
> This chapter is – again – unbeta’d because nobody seemed to pick out any faults or stupid mistakes from last chapter.  
> Just thanking the usual people; my dear friends Bela and Mickaela. And also… all the wonderfully brilliant people I have been talking to, including good old D who made this beautiful poster thing and therefore got to read this before anyone else as a huge thank you.   
> You guys - readers, commenters, friends - all mean so very much to me, so cheers m’dears :D  
> xXx

Regina was pressed into the wall just outside the general council chambers. She hadn’t intended to be; she’d had a whole list of things she should have been doing. But she had exited from a meeting with the Royal Guard and Robin had been walking past. And, like always, the moment he was within arm’s reach, he had her pressed into the nearest flat surface and was invading her space.

So now here they were, his left hand tangled in her long ponytail, the right slowly working its way under her heavy cape, her hands just above his hips and gripping at shirt – that she had untucked several kisses ago…

Regina felt oddly content, and the tasks that she had deemed important at the start of the day no longer seemed to matter.

She tilted her head up until her lips met his again, just a simple, affectionate kiss before they parted and their noses brushed against each other’s.

“Regina…” Robin started, the hand he had wormed between her cape and corset trailing down her spine, fingertips catching on each and every lace securing the garment to her curves, “why do you wear such difficult clothing?”

“Because it’s amusing watching you try to remove it when you’re distracted,” Regina retorted.

Robin withdrew the hand from her hair, leaned back, put it over his heart and scoffed. “You wound me, your majesty,” he mocked.

“We both know what I do to you…” Regina drawled, walking her fingers up his chest, “is not called ‘wounding’, dear.”

Robin withdrew his hands from her person, placing them either side of her head and bending his elbows until his nose was bumping hers.

“Are you sure about that?” Robin questioned, before moving his mouth to press under the corner of her jaw, “Because sometimes I want you so bad it hurts.”

Regina couldn’t tell if her reflexive gasp was from his words or the way his lips parted so he could bite down on her skin, but either way, her hands clutched at his biceps and her head tilted to the side.

Closing her eyes, Regina quietly moaned and bit her lip when the thief decided to suck at the point on her neck he had just bitten, a hand trailing down the front of her beaded corset, catching on the lace and then smoothing over the soft silk weaved into her skirts.

When, after a couple of moments, Robin pulled back, his eyes appeared darker as they flickered from her neck to her lips – which Regina curved into a smirk – before he leaned forward, fully intending to kiss her again.

The sound of footsteps – and Regina’s groan – halted his plans.

He looked up to see Snow – _surprise, surprise –_ heading towards them, and Robin honestly felt a little of the temptation Regina must have felt to try and _remove her_ from the situation.

When Regina tried to subtly push him away from her, the little temptation he felt grew somewhat.

Regina mentally catalogued her appearance; her fingers quickly brushing any possible smears of lipstick caused by the outlaw’s lips; she knew her hair was fine – he had only tangled his hand in her ponytail and her hair was not the straightest that day anyway; a quick glance down assured her that her clothing was still covering everything it was supposed to and looked no different than it had this morning.

The thief had done well.

Except she still felt the dull throbbing of that spot on her neck that was most likely going to bruise, thinking quick, she flicked her long ponytail from her left shoulder to her right to hide whatever mark was there. Glaring at the thief she decided she’d bring up the ‘making bruises’ issue later, but Robin’s response to her glare was a mere shrug of his shoulders and a smug smile.

_Arrogant thief…_

Regina missed the reflexive smile tugging at the princess’ lips as she watched the pair pretend to be disinterested in each other, before she remembered what she came for and quickly sobered.

“Regina, can I talk to you?”

“Now?” The Queen sighed.

“Yes. Now.” Snow’s voice was fairly sharp, Regina looked over to see the princess wringing her hands, pressing her lips together and frowning. She was worried, nervous, and if something had the ever-hopeful, ‘everything-will-be-fine’ Snow White this concerned, Regina felt a little reluctant to just dismiss her like she usually would.

“Ok,” Regina started, turning to fully face her, her shoulder brushing against the outlaw’s, “what’s wrong?”

Snow put her right hand in a pocket of her dress that Regina had been subconsciously picking faults with ever since she had sorted out her own clothing; it did nothing for her figure and just hung off her frame in white drapes, it wasn’t even as if she had a bump to hide yet – the curve of her stomach was slight and only just noticeable.

Regina’s attention was diverted away from the Princess’ poor fashion choices when she revealed a piece of folded, cream parchment clutched between her fingers.

“What’s that?”

“I don’t know.” She responded. “It was given to me…”

“By..?” Regina prompted.

“I don’t know.”

Regina rolled her eyes and sighed. “Is there anything you _do_ know?”

“He said it would be important, that we’d need it someday.”

“Wait, who’s ‘he’?” Robin asked.

The response was another; “I don’t know.”

Regina put her hands on her hips, letting out an exasperated; “Snow!”

“I don’t!” She protested. “I was just walking past the castle doors, and they flung open. This man appeared, gave this to me and told me it would be important.”

Robin’s question of; “what did the man look like?” was jumbled with Regina’s; “what else did he say?”

The two stared at each other for a split second before Robin bowed his head, muttering “ _apologies milady”,_ then gestured towards Snow in a silent ‘after you’.

“What else did he say?” Regina repeated.

“He just said that this would be important, he told me to be careful and that there was powerful magic on here…” Snow’s features scrunched together and she tried to recall the conversation she had been part of not five minutes ago. “He said the spell chooses its caster.”

“What spell is it?”

“He didn’t say. Just that it was powerful.”

“Well what does it say on the parchment?” Regina took Snow’s confused frown as the girl trying to pretend she hadn’t read it; “Snow, we both know how you like to have your nose in everybody’s business. You’re not telling me that you didn’t open it?”

“No, I did,” She confessed, “but… there’s nothing there. It’s blank.”

Regina frowned, if there was powerful magic on this parchment, an important spell that they would apparently be needing later, surely there would be some sign as to what said spell was? Usually there would be some instructions or diagrams, or at the very least the person holding it would feel what kind of magic it was.

Regina’s eyes widened; if there was nothing on the paper, it was likely the spell had tried to tell Snow how to cast it. The magic had probably been absorbed by Snow the moment she touched the paper.

They knew nothing about this magic; nothing about the person who gave it to them; nothing about what kind of spell it was; nothing about what this spell could do to a person, or the price of it.

Regina felt something twinge inside her. Had that magic done something to Snow? The girl was not a magic wielder; she did not have the strength to control her own bladder right now, let alone powerful magic from some unknown source.

If that unknown source was Zelena – there were no other threats as far as they knew – Regina vowed that the green witch would not know what hit her. It was one thing to go after Regina; she was jealous of _her_ life – goodness knows why – after all. But to go after Snow, who hadn’t actually done anything to upset the woman? It was a sure-fire way to have her green ass royally roasted.

Though Regina had spent a long time going after Snow herself – for a fairly valid reason – they had come a such a long way since the last time they were in the Enchanted Forest, and apparently, the maternal instincts that had made Regina save Snow without a second thought when they first met - and had her reluctant to exact her revenge when she was just a child - every so often reappeared, whether the Queen wanted to admit it or not.

Plus, if anyone was going to spend time making Snow White’s life hell, it was going to be Regina Mills.

“Snow,” Regina started, sounding more concerned that she would have liked, “are you feeling ok?”

“Um, I’m not usually one to point out the obvious,” Robin started, before raising a hand to point at the calligraphy swirling onto the paper, curved letters decorating the beige paper, “but it’s not blank anymore.”

Snow raised the letter to read before either of the other two could decipher it.

Her face blanched, her delicate, porcelain complexion becoming ghastly. Her eyes met Regina’s and something inside the Queen tugged at the expression on her face.

“Snow,” Regina asked softly, taking a step towards her, “what is it?”

Snow swallowed, reaching out towards Regina, the parchment shaking between her delicate fingers.

The Princess’ voice was quiet and weighted when she declared; “it’s for you.”

Regina hesitated for a couple of seconds before reaching out and taking the thick paper in her hand, her eyes still on Snow’s. When she let her gaze drift downwards, there was no mistaking the cursive, swirled lettering…

_Regina Mills_

Robin came to stand slightly behind her, looking over her shoulder, and then – sensing his Queen’s uneasiness – rested a hand on the small of her back.

Regina nodded once, taking a deep breath and then releasing it, before asking; “What did the man look like?”

“Um, he was old; had grey hair; a beard; wore these blue robes…” Snow listed, creating a mental image of the man who had thrown open the doors and strode up towards her, his shaky hands pressing that folded piece of paper into hers.

“Did he have a staff?” Regina asked, eyes wide.

“Yes,” Snow answered, sounding wary.

Regina took in a sharp breath. “Dark metal; twisted; blue gem encased at the top?”

Snow swallowed. “Yes, how did you..?”

Regina turned on her heel and stormed away from the duo, leaving them to share a glance before hurrying to follow her.

…

They catch up with the Queen just as she’s throwing open the doors to the library with a wave of her hands.

“Regina!” Snow shouted. And then again – a little more desperately – when she and Robin Hood barely had time to make it through the heavy doors before they shut again.

Robin stood one third of the way into the room, arms folded, watching Regina as she walked along the bookshelves, head tilting back as she looked to the higher rows of books. “What’s going on?”

Regina didn’t even turn around to ask; “That wizard you met, Snow?”

Snow sounded very wary and slightly anxious with her quiet; “yes?”

“Merlin.” Regina stated. “At least I’m fairly sure of it.”

“Merlin?” Snow repeated, “from Camelot?”

The Queen finally turned around then, to snap at Snow; “Do you know any other powerful wizards called Merlin?”

“But, he’s a good guy.” Snow stated, feeling somewhat chastised. “He helps people. Why are you so...?”

“ _’So_...’ what, Snow?”

Robin looked between the two women, knowing that if the young Princess had any desire to remain in one piece, she wouldn’t continue with her thoughts.

“Uptight.” The girl answered, and Robin had to commend her on her bravery.

“What have I told you about black and white, Snow?”

“That it’s never that simple.” Snow admitted, before looking wary; “does that mean that it’s dangerous?”

“Snow, dear, I know about as much as you do at this point.”

“So, what do we do?” Robin asked, clasping his hands together and ready to help, if only to stop Regina becoming a little more temperamental than usual.

“ _I_ am going to research.” The Queen declared. “You two are going to stay out of my way.”

“Why?” Snow asked, at the same time as Robin’s; “What for?”

“Are you honestly telling me that you could research this and know what you’re looking for? Either of you?” Regina remarked.

The two dropped their gazes and shook their heads; they wouldn’t have the first idea on where to look.

“Well then. Robin; go back, and spend some time with your son. Snow; go to Charming and… canoodle, or whatever it is you two do in your free time. I’ll be here.” Regina looked back down at the card again, nothing else had appeared since her name, and even that was fading. She sighed as she continued; “probably for a long while.”

…

It wasn’t five minutes after she had ushered Snow and Robin out of the library that the doors opened again. She didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Get lost on the way back to your room, thief?” She quipped.

Robin scoffed. “Well, aren’t you boring when you’re researching?”

“I’m many things, dear, ‘boring’ is not one of them.” She teased with a wink.

“Then,” Robin started as he walked over and leaned against the other side of the table until Regina had to look up to meet his eye, “would you be up for a little _distraction_?”

One look at the thief moistening his lips before taking his lower one between his teeth had Regina tempted to say ‘ _yes, to hell with it…’_ but she was not some horny teenager and she was not that easy to seduce. She wasn’t.

“Nope,” she said, pretending her mind wasn’t still chanting ‘ _yes’._ She turned to grab a piece of paper from a pile to her right, and the quill she had pushed towards the center, scrawling a few titles down. “I want you to find me those books.”

Robin huffed, walking around to her side. He placed the list down on the table and kept his hand over it, his other moved to rest on the table on the other side of Regina, caging her in his arms as he leaned forwards so his head was by hers and his chest was pressed against her shoulder blades.

“Wouldn’t you rather I take you - right here, right now - until you have to bite your lip to stifle the screams that would let _everyone_ know what I’m doing to you?” Robin growled into her ear.

Regina opened her eyes – not quite remembering the moment they’d fluttered shut – and turned to look at him, her eyes flitting from her list of books – that she desperately needed – to her thief – that she also desperately needed.

She was just about to tell him to fuck the list – and fuck _her_ – when he withdrew, making her shiver from the sudden loss of warmth.

“No? Ok then.” He mocked, before looking down at the paper in his hands. “Right, first on the list is: A History of Camelot…”

Regina narrowed her eyes at him in a glare. How very dare he? How dare he suggest something like that, distract her so thoroughly from what she had set out to do, and then just _saunter off_?

It was unacceptable.

Standing, turning, then nudging the chair to the side with her foot, Regina leant back onto the table and lowered her voice; “So, are we doing this on the table?”

“Up to you,” Robin replied, in his usual tone. Regina huffed.

“Well, I really like this table,” Regina hinted as she lifted herself onto it, mentally demanding him to turn around and just take her already.

Robin looked back at her, chuckled, then quipped; “it’s just a table.”

He didn’t see Regina’s jaw drop in slight disbelief as he moved to stand a couple of feet in front of her, facing the opposite direction that she wanted him to as his gaze swept over the bookshelf, his head tilting to the right so he could read the titles on the spines.

As Regina closed her mouth and tilted her head, letting her gaze sweep over his figure – admiring broad shoulders, strong arms, delectable backside – she supposed that she could deal with this view a little while longer.

“Don’t you ever get bored?” Robin asked, sounding somewhat distracted in his search.

“Sometimes,” Regina confessed, before she shuffled forward on the table, kicking off the heel on her right foot and stretching it so she could slowly trail her toes up the inside seam of his trousers, “but that’s why I have you.”

She heard him audibly gulp when her foot climbed higher, her toes _just_ brushing his hardening length.

Regina grinned when she pressed her toes a little harder against him and his breathing hitched. Having thought he should have got the message by now, she hooked her foot between his legs, and then bent her knee to pull him towards her. After two small steps he pushed her foot away and turned to face her.

“And here was me thinking you wanted to do some research,” Robin taunted.

Regina grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until his face was mere centimetres away from hers. She lowered her voice to a sultry whisper; “I want to do _you_ more.”

Robin rested his forehead against Regina’s and then leaned forwards so she had no choice but shuffle backwards.

“Is this table sturdy enough?” He asked, hands clutching at Regina’s hips.

“Seemed to be last time,” Regina quipped, before she recollected ‘last time’ was when they didn’t actually _get_ _anywhere_ because you-know-who decided she wanted to read this particular book at that particular moment; “or the time before I guess.”

Robin blinked and then frowned. “Oh, I had forgotten about that,”

Regina mock gasped, “how could you?”

“Forgive me if I’m a little distracted.”

Regina smirked, kicking off her other shoe and then locking her ankles behind Robin’s back, pulling him until his thighs were pressing into the edge of the table, teasing; “Well, why don’t you let me remind you..?”

“Who am I to stop a Queen?” Robin muttered, before she leaned forwards and her lips met his.

Her hand came to reach for one of his, moving it until her skirts were bunched between his fingers and his other hand came to trace patterns up her thigh.

Then his hand stopped, his fingers so close to the apex of her thighs, but he _stopped._

“You went a little further than that,” Regina huffed, shifting her hips forward slightly.

“How much further?” He teased, before creeping his fingers higher _oh so very slowly;_ “tell me when to stop.”

Regina locked her gaze onto his, resolutely keeping her mouth shut and raising one eyebrow as if to say ‘ _as if that’s ever going to happen.’_

He chuckled and moved his head to nip and suck at the skin on her neck, his fingers brushing over her sensitive flesh so lightly she whimpered.

“Well?” She breathed in encouragement, opening her eyes when he pulled back to look at her.

“It’s coming back to me, yeah,” he rasped, and Regina lowly chuckled. “You have no idea how much I wanted to ruck up your skirts and bury my head between your thighs that day,”

Regina moaned, biting his lower lip and then pulling away, letting it slide between her teeth. “So why didn’t you?”

“If I remember correctly,” Robin started, “we were interrupted by a certain Princess.”

Regina rolled her eyes and glared at a spot behind him as she remembered Snow’s penchant for interrupting them at almost every moment. But she wasn’t here in _this_ moment; the girl was with her husband.

“Well, what’s stopping you now?”

Robin chuckled, dropping a quick kiss to her lips before kneeling, taking the hem of her skirts into his hands and so very slowly pushing them up again – they had fallen back down when he had stepped away - his fingers tracing the skin of her legs as he did so.

With a smile and a bite of her lower lip, Regina rested one hand behind her – leaning back a little – and used the other to card through Robin’s hair. He pressed a kiss to her right knee, then another an inch higher, then another, and another…

Regina’s breathing grew heavy, her head tilted back and she sighed as his lips hovered over _just_ where she wanted them.

The doors behind them flung open.

Robin ducked down, shifting to the side so Regina could quickly stand and right her skirts, huffing and trying to will away the blush on her cheeks. The thief’s knees ached already from this awkward, crouched position, and he knew for a fact there was no way he would be able to stay where he was for the duration of the conversation between Regina and whoever the fuck had interrupted them… _again!_

_Think quick, Robin._

“Found it!” he exclaimed, standing with a book that Regina had no need of whatsoever, before handing it to her. “There you are, your majesty.”

“Thank you,” Regina said with an amused smile as she took the leather-bound journal he had – thankfully – found on the floor whilst she was trying to collect herself to a calm, unflushed composure.

She turned to see Snow standing at the door, and almost turned back around again.

_Every. Damn. Time._

Robin noticed and leaned to mutter in her ear; “deep breaths, try not to kill your pregnant step-daughter.”

Regina lightly kicked him in the shin in a silent ‘shut up before I kill _you’_.

Snow looked between the two with wide eyes and a slight blush, “am I interrupting something?”

“Of course not,” Regina said, plastering a fake smile on her face, “did you need something Snow?”

_She better need something important._

“No, I just wanted to see how you were doing.” Snow confessed.

Regina’s fists clenched, her smile hardened, her breathing deepened.

“We’re doing fine,” Robin offered, stepping in to avoid witnessing a murder scene, “still at the researching stage.”

Regina tried to focus on anything other than the fact that Snow had interrupted them again; a new order to rearrange her books into, a new design to redecorate the library, changing the furniture into something a little more elaborate, except the table she was on; she’ll have Robin fuck her on this table at some point – and probably some other dirty things too – if Snow stopped appearing at the most inopportune moments.

And her thoughts had led back to the urge to murder Snow again. _Brilliant._

Regina ran a hand over her hair, tucking in small pieces that had escaped her jewelled grips, then clasped them in front of her as she looked anywhere but at her step-daughter, who seemed to be even more frustrating in the Enchanted Forest than she had been in Storybrooke. If that was even possible.

Her eyes landed on a candelabra, gold and ornate in design, and she almost scoffed at the immediate thought of one of Storybrooke’s board games; ‘Snow White has been murdered, in the library, with the candlestick’.

There was no prize for guessing who the culprit was.

“Actually we were kind of busy, so if you don’t mind..?” Regina snapped, gesturing towards the door.

“Of course,” Snow grinned that infuriating, all-knowing, smug grin, and Regina frowned, her fists clenching again.

“Any time you like, Snow.” Regina urged.

“Sure. I’ll let you two get back to _‘_ researching’.” Snow commented with a wink and more than enough suggestion in her tone to imply she meant anything but ‘research’, before she left, shutting the door behind her.

“Am I missing something here?” Regina asked, frowning with her hands on her hips as she looked at the door, then to Robin, then to the door again. Robin hummed in response. “What’s going on?”

Robin sighed and ran a hand through his hair, mumbling, “I think Snow and Charming know.”

Her frown left her, her eyebrows rose and she slowly blinked before muttering a low; “What?”

“I think they know,” he repeated, a little louder, before clarifying; “about us.”

“How?” Regina asked, her voice cool and collected, which made the thief more nervous than if she had yelled at him.

“When you were injured, I came to visit you a few times.”

“And..? That is not enough for the two idiots to figure this out.” Regina sniped. “What did you tell them?”

“I didn’t say anything was going on.” Robin said, before reluctantly admitting; “But I didn’t say anything wasn’t.”

“Robin…” Regina warned.

“They caught me off guard, ok?” Robin defended. “I was lost in my thoughts, worried about you, and then I either got a ‘what do you want from Regina?’ or an ‘are you in love with her?’. I didn’t have an appropriate response planned for that!”

“They asked _what_?” Regina fumed. “They have no right to-“

Seeing the Queen get riled up, Robin stepped forward, trying to placate her with an honest; “Regina, they’re just looking out for you.”

“Well they don’t need to; I can look after myself.”

“They may not need to, but they _want_ to,” Robin protested. “They care about you, Regina. They were just making sure I wouldn’t hurt you.”

Regina scoffed. “Yes, well, I make my own mistakes, they have no reason to-“

“I’m a mistake?” Robin asked, trying but failing to keep the hurt out of his tone.

“What?” Looking at the thief, Regina saw him withdraw, frowning as he took a step back from her. She was honest in her assurances; “No. No, you’re not a mistake.”

Unsure why she felt so adamant that there was something just… _right,_ Regina frowned, but still she grasped Robin’s chin and tilted his head to face her so she knew he was listening. His wary gaze met hers, but his eyes softened when she gently – but firmly – declared; “Robin, this isn’t a mistake.”

Robin leaned down and kissed her, taking her lower lip between both of his as his hands came up to frame her face. She moaned when his tongue swirled around hers and he wrapped her long ponytail around his hand, tugging to tilt her head to the angle he wanted.

He pushed her back and grasped her waist to lift her onto the table again. His hands moved to her skirts and he gathered them once again before pushing them higher until they’re at the top of her thighs.

“Now then, where was I before we were so rudely interrupted?” Robin teased.

His grin faded with the demand hidden in Regina’s answer; “on your knees.”

Sinking to kneel before the Queen, he looked up and drank in the sight of her before him.

“Well don’t just gape at me,” Regina said with a smirk as she ran her hand through Robin’s hair, “put that mouth of yours to good use.”

“At once, milady,” Robin remarked, before leaning forwards and putting his mouth to _very_ good use.

Regina threw her head back with a small groan, gripping a fistful of his hair even tighter before whispering an encouraging; “ _more.”_

With a smug grin Robin complied, lightly scraping his nails up her thigh and then pushing one finger into her, waiting until she bucked up her hips before he actually started moving it.

He sucked harder at her clit and crooked his finger towards him with each withdrawal, moving his hand a little faster, harder.

Regina bit her lip to stifle a sharp cry, it wasn’t long before she could feel herself spiralling higher and higher, the anticipation of this having built ever since their stolen moment in the hallway.

Pleasure bloomed in her core, having her releasing loud moans between whimpers of ‘ _yes,’ ‘fuck’_ and _‘Robin!’_

There was the sound of heavy footsteps walking past the doors, and Regina vowed that her and the outlaw would not get interrupted for the _third_ time that day;

She would incinerate them on the spot before they even got the chance.

Curbing homicidal tendencies be damned.

…

By the time Regina – and Robin – were sated, cooled down and had realised that they were somewhat hungry, the multiple footsteps in the corridor they had heard were long since gone. Regina just hoped that the people responsible didn’t hear her muffled shouts and curses from within as they passed by. Not that Robin had been any quieter.

She heard someone walk behind her and automatically hated them; the mere sound of footsteps enough to remind her of the seemingly non-existent privacy her and the outlaw seemed to have been getting lately.

When the owner of said footprints hooked a hand in the crook of her elbow she almost let loose a fireball as she whipped around to face them.

Her irritation faded when she saw the sandy blond hair, blue eyes and freckles that belonged to probably the only other Merry Man apart from Robin that she doesn’t mind spending time with.

She had to laugh at George’s immediate reaction of raising his hands in a panicked ‘I surrender’ move. At the sound of her chuckle he warily lowered them, asking; “am I going to die?”

“No,” Regina comforted before adding a teasing; “not today anyway.”

“Charming…” He quipped.

“Do not associate me with that trait,” Regina sniped; “that belongs to the _other_ royals, who may not exist for much longer.”

“Ouch,” George winced, “what have they done now?”

Regina scoffed as she looked to the ground. She may have decided to share little bits and pieces with the man, but she drew the line at subjects of a _private_ matter. “You don’t want to know.”

“Oh, ok then,” George chuckled, “if you want me to set something up to annoy them…”

Regina’s eyes snapped up to see George’s sparkling with mischief. It appeared they had a pranker in their midst. With a sly grin, Regina replied; “I’ll know who to come to.”

They both grinned before Regina suddenly winced and brought a hand to clutch at her torso.

 “You ok?” George asked, placing a hand on Regina’s shoulder and bending down slightly to try and read her expression.

Her features were set in a grimace, her eyes screwed shut and her jaw clenched. She just managed to grind out; “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” He declared, before standing straight and shouting; “help!”

“George!” Regina admonished, her voice strained, “I told you; I’m fine.”

For a split second he almost stopped worrying so much, but then her pain intensified and she sank to her knees, her arms wrapped around her torso, and new waves of panic washed over him.

“Regina!” George knelt next to her, placing a hand on her back and feeling all her muscles tensed so very tight.

Between a couple of very slight whimpers she still managed to assure George – through gritted teeth; “it’ll be over in a second. Don’t panic.”

Sure enough, after a few short moments, Regina’s body relaxed and her breathing became deep and steady.

“What was that?” George asked, his voice stern and leaving no room for argument.

Regina sighed, taking a couple of deep breaths before she even thought about responding.

“It’s just… the remnants of Zelena’s magic,” she explained; “It’s working its way out of my system.”

“By what? Tearing you apart?!” George exclaimed.

“No. Well, not really. It’s difficult to explain.” She stammered, pursing her lips and thinking; “I think the easiest way would be to call it a temporary harming curse. It flares up every now and again, but it has become a lot less frequent lately.”

George’s eyes widened. “Curse?”

“Temporary.” Regina stated, of course he’d focus on ‘curse’ part. “And slightly weakened.”

She looked up to see George’s freckles standing out on his skin that seemed several shades paler than it had a few moments ago. “Look, it will be completely gone by tomorrow, the day after at the latest.”

“Are you sure?”

With a comforting smile, Regina confirmed; “Positive.”

George stood and held out a hand to her, helping her on her feet, and then leaning down to brush dirt off of his dark brown trousers. “I doubt Robin’s too happy about you being cursed.”

At Regina’s silence he turned to her and found her gaze downturned. He frowned as he understood; “he doesn’t know, does he?”

Steadying her voice, she declared; “He doesn’t need to.”

“Of course he does!” George protested.

“No, he doesn’t.” Regina insisted. “Look, he knows that it’s Zelena’s magic, and he knows that I’ll be perfectly fine in a day or two. You don’t need to scare him by throwing around the word ‘curse’.”

Regina turned and started walking away from him, and George almost missed her quiet mutter of; “he was emotional enough as it is.”

They walked in silence for a short time, before George suddenly stated; “he cares about you, you know.”

Regina’s smooth steps faltered. She swallowed and kept her gaze firmly fixed on the wall at the end of the hallway.

“Do you care about him?” He continued, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Regina could see him glancing at her from the corner of her eye and vowed to keep her gaze focused on the dark bricks in front of her.

“I’m not one for discussing my relationship status,” she snapped, although consciously making an effort to sound a little less harsh than she would if it had been one of the Charmings or that stupid dwarf.

George nodded. “So, you’re in a relationship?”

“No, it’s not a relationship.” Regina automatically denied.

He looked puzzled. “But you’re... together,”

Regina sighed, “We’re not ‘ _together’_.”

“Well what are you then?” George retorted, halting, standing in place and waiting for her to turn back to face him.

When she did, it was with an indignant frown.

“I… I mean, we’re…” She stammered, mouth opening and closing as she tried to find the right words.

George looked at her, eyebrow raised, arms folded in front of him with a smug smirk on his face that seemed to be a requirement for the Merry Men.

Regina glared, narrowing her eyes with a testy; “Oh, shut up,” before she turned on her heel and walked away from him.

She rolled her eyes when George’s loud laugh followed her.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well looky here; an update… *gasp*, *faint*, shock horror and all that jazz :) Just think of it as me reuniting you with KH in honour of Regina being reunited with Robin (kind of) <3  
> I know I haven’t updated in several months, and I am sorry that I left you all hanging like that but I was trying to work things out and wade through a lot of personal shit and believe me when I say that writing was not a priority for me during that time.   
> My tumblr is mysterious-song, and you will find any updates/announcements/information about my writing in the ‘zoe writes’ tag. This includes the reasoning for not writing often, or tiny little oneshots that I haven’t posted here, or replies to demands like ‘more Knocking Hips’ or ‘update soon’ because I admit I got very frustrated at those over the past few months.  
> I really need to thank my darling Bela and Sarah who checked over this and have given me the boost needed to post it (because I may have been – and still am – shaking slightly with nerves… :S). And also Emily and Mickaela because they are wonders of my life and I love them dearly.  
> So, yes, I really hope this is ok. You may need to skim read the last chapter or two if the details have faded since I last posted. Also, please just drop me a note of encouragement if you like it because I am so very very nervous about posting this after so long (if you couldn’t tell from my rambling…).   
> Oh God, here goes…

“Regina, I need to talk to you.”

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Regina turned to see Snow walking towards her.

“I was just about to head back to the library, Snow,” Regina started, spinning again to resume her journey to the books and papers and dead-ends that had plagued her for the past three days, “so if you don’t mind; I’m rather busy.”

Snow nodded, taking hurried steps until she had fallen in line with her step-mother. “I know; I just wanted to see how you were doing with the magical spell we got from Merlin.”

“Well, the paper is blank; my name has faded. And despite knowing about _possible_ kinds of magic the spell could be, I have nothing else to go on,” Regina admitted, sounding a little defeated.

“Have you looked in all the books?”

“There are over a thousand books in this castle, do you think I have time to sit and read through them all?” Regina snapped. She tried not to be so harsh, she honestly did, but the frustration at dead end after dead end had grated on her so much it was impossible to reign in her temper, and there would always be that part of her that loathed the princess, no matter how much she cared for the girl. “And in case you haven’t noticed; I also have a Kingdom to run.”

“You should take a break then,” Snow offered, her face lighting up with a kind smile.

Regina stopped, her face tightening in anger. “I _cannot_ take a break because whenever things appear to calm down, it is just a matter of time before we’re thrown headfirst into something else. _Some_ of us actually care about this Kingdom and want to run it properly; a simple ‘ _break’_ is out of the question.”

“Ok, sorry,” Snow murmured, looking down and wringing her hands together.

Regina was a mere moment away from snapping a harsh ‘ _you should be’_ or a sarcastic ‘ _of course you are dear,’_ but the sincerity in her eyes could not be faked and it somehow made her anger deflate.

“I’m frustrated.” Regina grumbled, and it was as close to _any_ kind of apology for her outburst as the princess would get.

Snow stood in front of her step-mother, placing her hands on her shoulders, “you’ll get there. I believe in you.”

That simple encouragement made Regina’s heart clench.

This girl, the small, little princess that had been saved from a runaway horse – and then had been forced to live on the run as plan after plan to wipe her from existence had failed – had found it in that pristine heart of hers to forgive and move past it all. Regina could never imagine understanding _how_.

“Thank you dear,” Regina said, and neither of them commented on the slight difference in her voice tone.

“Anytime, Regina.” Snow smiled.

Before Regina could think up something to shift from the uncomfortable moment rife with emotions she’d rather not explore, an excited shout of ‘ _majesty!’_ brought them both into reality.

The Queen turned, beaming when she saw Robin’s little boy running towards her.

He narrowly missed a gentleman carrying a mop, bucket and broom walking in front of him at a slower pace, ducking to avoid the handles, and Regina couldn’t help her reflexive exclamation of; “careful!”

The man chuckled, offered her a smile and assured her; “it’s fine, your majesty.”

She nodded at him before incessant tugging at her hand pulled her attention back to Roland. Regina chuckled, lowering herself to her knees and grinning at the over-excited boy in front of her.

It only took Regina raising her eyebrows in question for the endless ramblings about the adventures he and his father had gone on to begin; they had been playing in the gardens, he had helped search for treasures in the rooms in the Merry Men’s corridor – though Robin had previously explained to Regina before that the ‘search’ involved cleaning whatever they touched and she had chuckled knowingly – and he had sang his new favourite song to anyone who asked…

Regina met Robin’s eyes over the head of his son whilst he rambled about making all the Merry Men pictures and she couldn’t help her grin from stretching her cheeks and crinkling the skin around the corners of her eyes.

Snow watched the scene with a grin of her own, watching Regina immediately brighten as soon as the little boy had caught her attention. A hand hovered on her stomach as she watched Roland talk about his past couple of days with such joy and imagined listening to _her_ child’s incessant rambling someday.

“And now Papa said I have to go fishing with John.” Roland said as he ended his long stream of narrative.

“Fishing? Wow!” Regina exclaimed with wide eyes, “I bet you catch the biggest ones.”

“No, Will catches the biggest ones,” Roland giggled, before leaning forwards and whispering; “but we all tell Papa _he_ does, because otherwise he gets grumpy.”

Regina couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up out of her at the boy’s words, and the second laugh as she caught sight of Robin’s scowl.

“Majesty?” Roland asked, his excitement fading as he clutched at the hem of his green tunic.

With a small frown, Regina dipped her head to catch his eye, asking; “What is it?”

It was in a small voice that the boy asked; “when can we bake a cake?”

Regina inwardly groaned; she had forgotten all about that, the spell from Merlin had taken up the majority of her thoughts – those which weren’t occupied by the thief – and she hadn’t seen neither Robin nor Roland for the past few days.

Robin stepped forward, “Roland, my boy, I’ve told you; Regina’s been busy doing very important things…”

“No, Robin,” Regina interrupted, “I promised him we’d make a cake.”

“Can we make one now, majesty?” Roland asked, his cute, little features arranged in a pout with puppy-dog eyes that _nobody_ could refuse, not even the Evil Queen.

She was just about to wholly agree, when she remembered; “I thought you were going fishing?”

“Papa can go instead. Please?”

Both Regina and Robin looked at each other, silently checking if the boy’s requests were ok. With a smile, Robin nodded towards Roland, giving her the privilege of granting his wishes.

“It was chocolate cake, right?”

Roland noted the smile on the Queen’s face and didn’t even bother to answer before he bounced on the balls of his feet, practically leaping forwards and wrapping his arms around Regina’s neck before she had even registered the movement.

She stood, hoisting him onto her left hip as she smoothed a hand over his hair.

Robin stepped closer to her, asking; “are you sure this is ok?”

“It’s fine, really,”

With a firm gaze, Robin turned to his son. “Now, you must behave for Regina, ok? Be a good boy and do as she says.”

“I will Papa.” Roland nodded. “I promise.”

Robin smiled as he ran a hand over his son’s hair. “Ok.”

Regina shifted Roland higher on her hip, “don’t worry about us; my little knight and I will be perfectly fine, won’t we?”

“Yeah,” the little boy enthused, “and we’re going to bake the best chocolate cake _ever_!”

Robin _mmm’d._ “I can’t wait to taste it.”

“Who said you’re getting any?” Regina quipped.

She managed all of two seconds before her smirk gave her away, and they both chuckled.

Robin was just about to ask again if Regina was ok with this, but before he could, she read his intentions and stopped him with a hand on his bicep. “We’ll be fine, Robin. Besides; apparently I should take a break anyway.”

Regina turned to garner Snow’s reaction to the jibe, but the princess was observing her and Robin and Roland with knowing eyes and a satisfied smile, of which Regina did not wish to ever be at the receiving end. She turned back around quickly and pretended she saw nothing, pushing down the urge to act all cold, distant and pretend nothing was going on to get rid of that smirk.

But Robin smiled _that smile_ , and Roland tightened his grip around her neck, and _to hell with it;_ Snow already knew anyway.

“We’ll see you later,” Regina prompted, her voice soft.

“Alright,” Robin conceded, finally able to shake out of his thoughts about how wonderful the sight of Regina and his son was to say – or rather ask; “I’ll come and see how you’re doing when I’m back?”

Nodding with a smile, Regina answered in the affirmative, and for a few seconds the trio just smiled at each other.

Robin ran his hand through his son’s hair again, bending down to give him a kiss to the cheek, “right, be good.”

He straightened, smiling at his son’s insistent; “I _will_! Papa.”

When Regina turned to look back at Robin, he had his lower lip between his teeth in the same way he always did when he was thinking a little too hard.

She didn’t get the chance to ask what was on his mind before he cupped her elbow and leaned towards her, gently pressing his lips to her cheek in a _very_ chaste kiss that had her heart fluttering all the same.

In the back of her mind, Regina knew Snow was watching, probably with a Cheshire cat-like grin, and the knowledge made Regina feel awkward and nervous and it suddenly felt like a first kiss all over again.

Though when Robin pulled back, looking as nervous as she did, she smiled in reassurance and his resulting grin made the momentary, self-conscious nerves worth it.

“See you later,” he offered before walking backwards a few steps, opening his hands out with a foot’s distance between them, stating; “I’m going to go and catch some big fish.”

Roland chuckled, and Regina brought her right hand up with her thumb and forefinger a few inches apart, correcting him.

With a huff and his arms folded in front of him, Robin turned his head and walked down the corridor in an exaggerated, petulant tantrum that the Princess, the Queen and her little knight couldn’t help but laugh at.

The light, melodious laugh from behind her drew Regina’s attention to the fact that Robin had kissed her cheek – in front of the princess – and then had walked off and left her to answer to the knowing glances and personal questions.

_He was going to suffer dearly for that._

“Come on,” Regina said before tightening her hold on Roland and making a very quick half turn, laughing at the boy’s chuckle at the sudden movement. “Let’s go and make a chocolate cake.”  

She saw Snow’s mouth open but before a single syllable could exit her mouth Regina levelled a glare at her, with a firm, warning; “Not a word.”

Snow closed her mouth obediently, but the smirk remained long after Regina had walked past.

…

Regina set Roland down just before she reached the kitchen’s doors. She’d chosen the secondary kitchen that was only used when cooking for a large audience, and although it somewhat lacked in equipment compared to the primary kitchen, it had everything required to make a cake, and it was unlikely to be very busy.

Sure enough, when they entered, there were only two people in there. The woman nodded and smiled at Regina – having informally spoken to her many times before in Storybrooke, but the man went into a regal bow and then left, ushering his companion out with him.

It wasn’t a large kitchen by any means; the length exceeded the width by far and there were only three islands fitted in sideways, work stations either side with cupboards filled with pans and bowls and spoons, and shelves stocked with spices and flavourings. The large furnace in the centre of the left wall gave out lots of heat, necessitating in windows being open for the majority of the time, even when raining, and it always seemed to smell of freshly cooked bread.

When Regina looked at Roland he was clearly itching to get started, his gaze flitting around the room like a butterfly; never in one place long enough to truly see anything.

“Go on then, choose a workbench.” Regina said, smiling when he ran to the one furthest from the door, right under the window, and stood on his tip-toes to see over the edge of the table. As it was still fairly early in the day, the sound of birds’ song drifted through with the small breeze. Regina walked over with a smile.

On her way there she grabbed a small stool, and as soon as she was stood near the bench she placed it down to her right and helped the small boy climb up on it, before stepping up to the wooden surface herself.

She frowned as she started taking in the small crumbs around a pot or two, and the bottles of spices on the shelf above her had their labels facing the wrong way. She was not even going to look in the cupboards underneath her without preparing herself first; goodness knows what state they were in.

Turning to face Roland she clasped her hands together in front of her, “Right then, what’s the first thing we do when we’re going to make food?”

Roland looked down to the work bench in thought, pursing his lips as he tried to recall what he usually does when his father and the Merry Men did the cooking. “Get out plates and bowls?” He asked, turning to her with expectant eyes.

Regina chuckled, “not quite; we wash our hands first.” Then when she saw Roland deflate a little she added; “ _then_ we go and get plates and bowls. I doubt you wash your hands much when you live in a forest, hmm?”

Roland shook his head and Regina rolled her eyes. _Typical._

Roland jumped off of his stool and went to run to the wash basin, but Regina stopped him with a hand clutching the back of his shirt and; “ah ah, not yet.”

The little boy huffed and sighed, “ _what_?”

Regina raised her eyebrows in a silent reprimand at his tone of voice before she turned him to the back of the room where there were a row of aprons hanging on a series of wooden notches fixed to the stone wall.

“We wouldn’t want you to ruin your clothes, would we?” Regina offered in explanation.

Roland shook his head and walked over to the garments, tugging at one and trying in vain to get it off the hook. Regina couldn’t help but laugh as she walked over, unhooking the apron Roland had been pulling at and then the one that looked cleanest – which just so happened to be on the peg to the left of it.

Once she had placed the cleaner apron over her head and made a bow at the small of her back, - ensuring the front of her puffy blouse, fitted waistcoat and leather trousers were sufficiently covered – she bent down and held out the top loop for Roland to put his head through, and then laughed at the length of the apron – or the shortness of the boy – when he stood straight; the fabric ended a good foot after it touched the ground. Chuckling to herself, Regina tucked the end up underneath the front until the bottom edge was just below his knees. As she held it in place with her left hand, she used her right to wrap the strings around the front of his torso before she made a tight bow behind his back.

She leaned back on her haunches to admire her makeshift child’s apron, it wasn’t anything a seamstress would be proud of, but it would have to do for now.

“Now we need to go and wash our hands.” Regina stated, standing and placing a hand between Roland’s shoulder blades to direct him to the water basin.

Roland ran forwards, diving in between the work benches with whooshing noises.

“Roland, honey, no running in the kitchen please.” Regina warned.

“Okay, majesty,”

By the time Regina had walked over to Roland, more of the water had gotten on his apron than it did on his hands, but when Regina had dried herself off and had taken Roland’s little hands into her palms, they looked clean enough.

Once they were back at their station and had two bowls, a cake tin and several spoons in front of them, Regina turned to face Roland.

“Now then, do you know what ingredients we need to make a chocolate cake?” She asked.

Roland shook his head and then stopped, looking to Regina and tentatively asking; “flour? And sugar?”

“That’s right, well done.” Regina praised – smiling at the boy’s beam – before asking; “do you know what else?”

The little boy’s features scrunched together as he thought it over again, “do we need chocolate?”

“To make a _chocolate_ cake? Of course we do,” Regina stated with a grin, “I may even let you eat a little bit before we put it into the mix, but we’ll keep that between us alright?”

Roland nodded seriously. “Ok, majesty.”

“Roland,” Regina started with a smile, “you can call me Regina.”

“Why?”

The little boy’s confusion made Regina’s smile widen. “That’s my name.”

“Oh,” Roland nodded, his gaze downwards as he absorbed this information. Then he looked back up at her, a nonplussed frown on his face as his head tilted; “But you’re Queen.”

The Queen laughed. “I am, but I let my favourite people call me Regina.”

“I’m your favourite?” Roland asked, excitement in his eyes and wonder in his voice.

“Of course, my dear.” Regina smiled, “now, is my favourite boy in the castle going to help me get the ingredients?”

With an enthusiastic nod, Roland hopped off his stool before Regina could reach out to help, taking a few quick steps in one direction, and then the other, before turning to Regina with a sheepish smile.

Laughing, Regina made to walk past him, taking his hand in hers and leading him towards the pantry at the back of the room where all the ingredients she’d need – except for the large quantity of chocolate and cocoa powder that she would produce herself – and goodness knows what else were kept.

The little boy walked in to the reasonably sized room and looked around in awe. The walls were covered in shelves holding jars of jams and pickles and sauces, vegetables to the left, fruits to the right, loaves of fresh bread held in large sacks on the floor, along with a few more marked potatoes and flour. Roland reached up, his fingers just skimming the bottom clove of a garlic garland that was hanging on a nail embedded into the wooden frame. He looked around the room and his eyes lit up when he spotted a bunch of grapes lying on top of a barrel. Without thinking he ran over and pulled one off, popping it into his mouth and smiling as he chewed it.

He turned around with a guilty expression when he heard Regina’s questioning; “excuse me?”

With his hands behind his back he looked down at the ground, scuffing his shoe into a couple of green leaves on the floor, muttering “sorry.”

“That’s alright.” Regina grinned. “Just ask first next time, ok?”

“Ok. Please can I have another grape please?”

“Of course,” she chuckled, watching as he grinned and pulled off another, and then looked back in question to see the Queen’s nod before he pulled off one more.

“Do I get one too?” Regina asked with a small smile.

Roland nodded, shoving both the grapes into his mouth and then looking at the bunch before picking off one at the top and running over to her. “I picked this one for you. It’s the perfectest.”

Regina couldn’t help the ‘ _aww_ ’ that escaped her, but she managed to pull back on the urge to pepper kisses all over his cute, little face and settled for just one of the top of his head. “Thank you, my dear.”

He held it up to her in his little hands and Regina bent down so she could eat it straight out of his fingers, giving a teasing nip to his palm that made him shy away and giggle.

“Now then, as much as I would love to stay here and let you feed me grapes, we really need to sort out these ingredients.”

Roland nodded seriously, “What do we need?”

“We need some flour,” Regina started, procuring cups that would hold just the amount they needed.

She scooped up flour in one cup, giving it to Roland to hold, before declaring ‘ _and we need some sugar’,_ doing the same and giving the second cup to Roland to hold in the other hand.

“We need two fresh eggs,” Regina walked over to the basket of straw laden with the eggs harvested that morning and held one in each hand. She turned to see Roland – hoisting both the cups of flour and sugar to lay on his arm and rest against his chest, outstretching the other to hold the eggs – and saw the immediate carnage of letting a four year old boy carry all these ingredients; “I’ll hold these.”

“We’ll need a little olive oil, but I’m sure that is on our bench, and I’ll magic us the chocolate when we’re there.” Regina mumbled under her breath, mentally going through the list of what they need, before remembering; “butter.”

In the time it took her to retrieve a chunk of butter – that was a little over what Regina estimated was the right amount but it saved her from returning for more – Roland had ran away with thoughts and had a pensive frown on his face.

“Regina?” He asked, sounding as if he was trying out the name before it overtook ‘majesty’, “Is papa your favourite too.”

Regina froze, lifted her gaze then turned her head to face him. “What makes you ask that?”

“Papa calls you Regina all the time, and you said you only let your favourites call you Regina.” Roland explained. “But if he’s not your favourite then I can tell him off when you’re not there.”

“Well,” Regina started with a chuckle, before the boy’s words registered; “wait… your father talks about me when I’m not there?”

Roland nodded. “Yes.”

“What does he say?” Regina asked, and then kicked herself for sounding like some lovesick teenager hanging on every word her crush said.

“He just says that you’re really nice. And very wonderful.” Roland confessed, a blush tinging his cheeks. “And papa told me a bedtime story about a beautiful Queen who lived in a big castle and it was all about you.”

“Oh,” Regina breathed, a little taken aback.

“Is he?” Roland prompted, inquiring with curious eyes.

“He’s… not as bad as the others.” Regina compromised, preparing to leave the conversation there.

Though Roland knew better; “So he _is_ your favourite?”

“One of them.” Regina resigned. “But don’t tell him, because he’ll get this stupid smile on his face…”

Roland nodded enthusiastically, “like this,” and then he smirked – in a pretty decent imitation – the smug smirk his father got when his ego had been inflated.

Regina couldn’t help but laugh; “that’s the one. So just keep it between us. Deal?”

“Deal,” the boy smiled, and Regina couldn’t resist the urge to ruffle his hair.

“Right, come on you,” Regina started, nudging him back out in the direction of the kitchen, “let’s go and bake the best chocolate cake _ever._ ”

…

About an hour later and they were still only on the mixture.

They had ended up talking about their favourite foods, and drawing flowers and trees in flour and sugar that had spilled onto the table, and as soon as Regina had cleaned one thing, it was messy again not a second later.

Regina had forgotten how tiring and lengthy baking with a young boy was. She swore Henry never used to cause _this_ much trouble.

_Henry…_

The thought of her little prince made her heart clench and stomach drop, and she had to turn her head away for a moment to try and compose herself.

“Regina?” Roland asked from beside her, leaning forwards – perilously close to dipping his curls in the chocolate mixture – to see the Queen looking quite upset. “Why are you sad?”

The mere thought of the Queen being unhappy had Roland’s voice quivering slightly, and the fact that the little boy seemed to care that much had a watery smile appearing on Regina’s face.

“I’m ok Roland,” she assured, running a hand through his mop of brown curls, “I was just remembering someone I miss very much, that’s all.”

“Oh, well when I miss my papa I just give him a big hug next time I see him.” Roland admitted, thinking out loud before turning to her and saying; “You should do that too.”

“Hug your papa?” Regina asked with a dismissive laugh.

“No!” He said, “the person you miss.”

“If only it was that simple my darling,” Regina sighed.

Then, not wanting to put a dampener on the time spent with this marvellous little boy, Regina stood so she was slightly behind him, declaring; “we really need to get this in the oven soon, dear.”

“Ok.”

And just like that the boy let it go, stirring furiously with his tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips and frowning when he had to wrap his arm around the bowl to stop it from moving too much.

Regina’s laugh covered the sound of the door opening and closing. And as she stood behind him and held the bowl, her peripheral vision didn’t cover the man leaning against the door jamb with a smile on his lips and adoration in his eyes.

Robin had come back from fishing early. It had been an unlucky day and they had caught nothing in the hour where all Robin could think – or talk – about was Regina and his son. And then of course John had given him ‘friendly’ advice consisting of ‘ _watch your back’_ and ‘ _don’t get in too deep’_ to which Robin sighed and rolled his eyes as he had heard all of this before – and he came to realise that he had ignored it the first time as much as he did the second. And when John had tried to sway the conversation into more salaciously _male_ banter regarding the Queen, Robin had put an end to it and had insisted they pack away.

They had no sooner returned to the castle than Robin started making his way towards the main kitchen. Half way there he realised it was more likely she went to the smaller one he had once found her in, it was mere weeks after they met and she was preparing herself a snack in the small hours of the morning – and when he had inquired as to her business there, she had promptly told him to ‘ _go back to wallowing in swamps’_ before haughtily lifting her chin and walking past him with the best smelling food he had ever known.

And so he had found her there again, and she had looked nothing like she did the first time; she was smiling at his son, her whole face lighting up with laughter before she moved to help him, steadying the bowl as his enthusiastic actions had it skidding all over the table top.

When Roland’s head tilted back to look up at Regina with a beaming smile, and Regina tilted her head down to look at Roland with the same wide grin, Robin felt his heart pound in his chest.

If he never saw anything else ever again, he could die happy treasuring this one moment for the rest of his life.

As it happened his son chose that moment to notice him, and he wasn’t entirely sure what expression he had on his face, but it was enough to seemingly have Regina’s breath hitching when she finally noticed him too¸ and he felt the need to school his features into something… less obvious.

“Papa!” Roland shouted, dropping the spoon in the bowl with a _thunk_ and then jumping down from the stool.

Before he could begin his race to his father, Regina hooked a finger in the apron string around his back, giving a gentle reminder of; “hands.”

With a nod he obediently went around to the sink. As he was scrubbing in the water to get rid of the stickiness on his fingers, Robin decided to walk over to where Regina was standing.

“Has he been ok?”

Regina couldn’t help the smile spreading over her features, looking over to where Roland was inspecting his hand and then dunking it under the water again. “He’s been brilliant.”

When she looked back again, Robin’s gaze hadn’t shifted from hers, though Regina saw his hand move towards to bowl out of the corner of her eye and she promptly tapped the back of it in warning. “No.”

“No?” Robin asked, putting on a pout that would have had her kissing him had he not just tried to steal cake mixture from _her._

“No.” Regina affirmed, before calling out; “Roland, tell your papa he’s not allowed any of our cake mix.”

“Papa, you’re not allowed any of our cake mix,” Roland parroted without question, and Regina thoroughly enjoyed the affronted look on Robin’s face as he realised his son was now siding against him.

Though the smug smirk faded when Roland added; “Regina said only _we_ can taste it.”

Ok, so maybe he wasn’t _completely_ siding against his father, but it was close enough for Regina.

“Oh,” Robin started, “I see how it is; you’re allowed the mixture but not I?”

Regina nodded with an affirmative hum, trying to remain nonchalant even when Robin leaned _so very close_ into her space to whisper in her ear; “you don’t play fair, milady.”

Regina had a retort on the tip of her tongue, but when he pulled back she caught a glimpse of chocolate at the corner of his mouth and immediately knew what he had done.

Damn thief.

“You want to know what’s not fair?” Regina asked, stepping forwards into his personal space. His eyes searched hers, flitting to her lips with a smile and a nonchalant shake of his head before he met her gaze again. “Distracting the cook so you can steal some of the food.”

The smile on his face faded at the knowledge of being caught, and as Regina quirked a brow in reprimand, he casually shrugged his shoulders as he sank his teeth into his lower lip and grinned.

Regina couldn’t find it in herself to even _pretend_ to be angry at him for any longer, and she chuckled, dropping her head onto his shoulder to muffle her giggles.

“Papa!” Roland exclaimed once he had walked back around to the work bench, “you have chocolate mix on your mouth.”

Robin swiped the corner of his lips, but only succeeded in smearing traces of it towards his cheekbone. Regina and Roland both looked at each other and laughed.

“It’s still there papa.” Roland managed between giggles.

Robin went to try again but Regina beat him to it, brushing her thumb over his stubble to wipe away the part he hadn’t been able to remove.

Once she was done she grasped Robin’s chin and directed his face towards his son.

“What do you think, Roland?” She asked, turning to face him. “Better?”

The boy tilted his head, over-exaggerating his contemplation before nodding, “better. But you’re not allowed near the cake mix anymore papa.”

Robin let out a melodramatic whine, “but Roland…”

“No, papa,” Roland insisted, “Regina said you can’t have any, and we have to do what Regina says.”

The Queen barely held in her laugh, but still managed to direct a smug, _so there_ expression at Robin before they both chuckled.

Taking pity on his adorable pout – though how she could think a grown man _adorable_ she would never know – Regina gently tapped his cheek and compromised; “You can watch.”

“I prefer to _do,_ ” Robin quipped.

“Well I know _that_ ,” Regina drawled with a wink, and their gazes held and heated as the thoughts proving the truth of his statement got naughtier and _naughtier_.

Roland – oblivious to the very _mature_ direction the adults’ minds were taking them – whined; “Papa, go away.”

Robin huffed, folding his arms and tearing his gaze away from Regina’s. “Are you going to ask nicely?”

“Please?” he grinned.

Robin looked to Regina expectantly, who smirked and lowered her tone to tease; “Would you kindly move away, _sir_?”

His jaw tensed and Regina smirked even more.

That smirk only grew as he stood directly next to her, quieting his tone to ask her; “Are you calling me Sir on purpose?”

“Now, does that sound like something I would do?” Regina mocked.

“It does.” Robin quipped, resting his hand on the small of her back and tracing his fingers up and down her spine, following the shivers he initiated. “Do you know what that does to me?”

Regina’s ‘ _yes_ ’ was smug and Robin found himself wishing his son had busied himself with something other than stirring the bowl again _right next to them._

“You’re wicked,” he stated.

“No dear; Evil,” she corrected, before teasing; “now be a good boy, and go and stand over there.”

“Where?” Robin asked as he took one step backwards. He wasn’t going to make it easy for her. “Here?”

He regretted his decision when she shook her head and said ‘ _more’_ in that sultry tone of hers that drove him to the brink of insanity. Apparently, she wasn’t making this easy for him either.

“Here?” He sighed, taking another step back.

But Regina shook her head and instructed; “Don’t stop.”

Robin gulped. He knew what she was doing. And it was bloody working.

_Damn Queen._

He dreaded asking if where he stood now was ok, _lord knows_ what she’d say next.

Apparently she had already decided, looking him up and down, pursing her lips to try and curb her grin, before stating; “Right there.”

Robin lost his mind.

He was grateful he was four steps away from her because if she was within arm’s reach…

_Don’t even think about it…_

Robin frantically arranged his thoughts into something more suitable for when he was in the same room as his young boy. _If only Regina allowed him the same courtesy._

Though aside from a scandalous wink and a tantalisingly evil smirk, she said nothing else – a fact for which Robin was eternally grateful – choosing to turn back to his son as if she hadn’t just been feeding such _very_ dirty thoughts into his father’s mind with five simple words.

He huffed as he pulled out the stool from the work bench he was next to and sat on it.

“Right then,” Regina started, moving back behind Roland and peering over the edge of the bowl to check the mix was stirred well enough, “you taste that, make sure it’s delicious, and I’ll grab the cake tin.”

Roland nodded seriously, picking up the wooden spoon with a large dollop of chocolate cake mix on it and licking his lips.

Regina smiled, turning to search for the tin she had pushed aside not too long ago.

But then her thoughts suddenly drifted to Henry again, many a memory floating through her head of a few times her little prince helped with baking; a 2 year old more interested in making a mess with whatever he could find than helping his mother; a 4 year old messily writing ‘I love you mommy’ in flour on the work bench then beaming with pride; a 5 year old sneaking sticky fingers into the cake mixture for a quick taste when he thought she wasn’t looking; a 7 year old protesting that he knew how to do it ‘ _all by himself’_ and then getting upset when it wasn’t as good as his mom’s…

Blinking moisture from her eyes and clearing the lump in her throat, Regina located the tin with a victorious grin and turned back to her little ‘helper’ for the day. The pang of her bittersweet reminiscing faded to laughter when she saw Roland’s face; the boy had somehow managed – in the few seconds she had her back turned – to smear the chocolate mix all around his mouth, up to the apples of his cheeks, and even some on the underside of his nose.

“You’re supposed to taste it, Roland; not paint your face with it.”

She chuckled as she picked up the damp cloth in front of her that they had used to clean away excess ingredients, opening it out before muttering “come here” and splatting it over his face.

Rubbing vigorously, Regina laughed when she felt his cute, little features scrunch up beneath the thin material, his small hands coming up to wrap around her wrist as he giggled.

“There we are,” Regina declared as she pulled the cloth away to leave a chocolate-free, little boy, “all clean.”

Robin smiled, caught up in watching his son interact with his Regina as they milled about in the kitchen. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was how his future would be; him seated on a stool away from everything, forced to just watch his son and his wife bake cakes because he stole some of the mixture without permission, watching them laugh at how messy they had both gotten despite not caring in the slightest about the flour and chocolate on their clothes…

He couldn’t imagine anything better.

Robin’s eyes widened when the stark realisation hit him. He was starting to imagine his future, with Regina in it, by his side, and his son’s, baking cakes and being maternal and teasing him when Roland wasn’t looking…

He had thought of his future before, had imagined a female presence in his – and his son’s – life, but she had always been faceless, her features blurred as if he couldn’t quite make out what he wanted.

Apparently, now he had.

Regina Mills.

Perhaps John was right; Robin knew he was falling fast for the Queen, but he didn’t realise just _how_ fast. Maybe he needed to take a little step back, just until he had his head together and was as resolute in not letting this become a full blown relationshipas Regina did.

But this woman was a siren; drawing him in deeper and deeper, and he doubted she even realised it.

Letting his feelings for her develop would only bring heartache, surely; she had stated that she didn’t want anything more than a distraction.

But what kind of _distraction_ involved baking cakes with their child, working with friends to tease him, and having something so strong he _swore_ he could sometimes feel what she felt?

Robin was torn. His thoughts made his head spin. He had given up trying to define _anything_ regarding Regina Mills very quickly after he had met her; she was a woman who defied labels. Why should their ‘distraction’be any different?

He’d just have to try and avoid any situation where he could forget himself and start daydreaming about sharing his life with her again. 

He could manage that. Surely.

Robin was brought out of his musings by the woman in question calling his name, looking slightly frustrated as she huffed a strand of hair out of her face.

 “Hey, Robin, could you pass me a spoon from that cupboard?” she asked, pointing to the lower cabinet next to where his bent knee was.

She obviously needed a clean one – as the two on the table were unclean and Roland had a firm grip on the third - but she had one hand holding the bowl for support and her arm just wasn’t long enough to reach anywhere near another one.

When he didn’t move and scowled Regina huffed again and mocked; “please?”

Still frowning, Robin stood, opened the doors, grabbed a spoon and held it out to her.

Noting the change in demeanour Regina didn’t even attempt to take the utensil, preferring to ask; “Are you ok?”

“Fine.” He assured, holding the spoon out further in a gesture for her to take it.

Not believing him for a second, Regina reached forward but bypassed the handle, wrapping her fingers around his hand and pulling him closer to her instead of letting him walk back to his stool again.

She kissed him. It was a short kiss – by their standards – but it was enough to soften his mood considerably. And when Regina pulled back and smiled at him, raising her brow in a silent repeat of _are you ok?_ , the corner of his mouth tugged up in the start of a grin too.

He didn’t know how she did it.

But she had just waltzed back in through every promise he had made to try and stay distant for a little while.

And as he watched Regina now, ushering him backwards with a smile before turning to his son and helping him spoon the mixture into the tin in front of her, it was a wonder how the thought ever came into his head in the first place.

He didn’t have a prayer of staying away from her.

…

Another hour later and Regina was walking back to her room with a smile, replaying everything from her long morning that fed into the afternoon. The way Roland’s face had lit up as they had watched the cake rise as it baked, the way Robin had glared and mouthed ‘ _wicked_ ’ when she bent over at the waist to grab a new bowl from the lower cupboard, and the way she had mouthed ‘evil’ with a wink in correction. They had eventually given in trying to keep Robin away from the chocolate, and he had ended up trying to squeeze between Regina and Roland – the latter of whom was having none of it – to helpwith laying the melted chocolate on top and sandwiching buttercream between the two layers. Though his version of ‘ _help’_ consisted of stealing a few swipes around the rim of the bowl and mockingly picking fault with _everything_ , then making everyone laugh as he just made it worse when he tried to make it better.

Regina had shooed them away afterwards, tidying and cleaning when Roland had become a little whiny and wanted to divert his attention to something more fun. She had told Robin to take him back to their room; he had been good all day and he deserved to have a break. The fact that Robin had tried to stealthily commandeer the bowl of chocolate before he left did not go unnoticed by Regina, but in respond to her protest he had put a spot of chocolate on the top of Regina’s ear, and before she could scold him he had traced his tongue over the sweet substance and gruffly told her that he wanted something for _them_ to play with afterwards.

Her cheeks had flushed then, and they flushed now at the mere thought of his definition of ‘ _play’_ , but as she saw George waiting for her, resting against the door of her chambers with his arms folded, she fought to get her thoughts under control.

“George?” She called out, smirking at the way he jumped, “what are you doing here?”

“I was just checking in on you,” he replied, smiling and tucking his hands into his pockets, “how are you?”

“I’m fine,” Regina replied without thought, but then amended it to; “I’m great, actually.”

“I’m glad.”

“Are _you_ alright?” She asked, noting that he seemed to be holding something back.

“Yeah, I’m good,” George smiled, before enquiring; “How’s Zelena’s curse?”

Regina grinned. “Gone.”

“For good?”

Regina nodded in affirmative with a hum.

“Good.”

Regina paused and refrained from saying anything else as she tried to think of whatever he could be trying to keep quiet about. She gave up and just sighed; “spit it out George.”

“I need a favour,” he grimaced, unsure as to what the Queen’s reaction would be.

“Oh?” She said as she raised her brow, teasing; “just because we’re friends does not mean I will do you any favours.”

George smiled, the tension leaving him. “No; you’ll do me a favour because I’m handsome and charming and will owe you.”

“Well…” Regina started, pretending to consider, before mocking; “one out of three isn’t bad I suppose.”

“I’m wounded, your majesty.” George said as he placed a hand over his heart in an affronted, melodramatic fashion.

With a roll of her eyes she asked; “What do you need?”

“It’s my birthday next week.” George started, and when Regina just raised an eyebrow at him in a silent _and..?_ he continued; “I believe Robin and the rest of his team are planning a surprise party.”

“Right, and the problem is?” Regina wondered, gesticulating between them with her palm held up in question.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“You and me both,” Regina admitted, “but what do you want _me_ to do about it?”

He grimaced again, taking a deep breath and then saying all at once; “Just tell me what they’re planning. I’ll act surprised, they won’t know any different…”

“But all their hard work to keep it secret would be for nothing,” Regina pointed out, sounding slightly distressed at the thought of Robin’s – and Roland’s, because there was no way his little boy wouldn’t join in – efforts going to waste.

“But if I don’t like it then everyone will know because I cannot lie to save my life.” George whined, before adding; “I can’t hide disappointment very well, it’s just not who I am.”

“I don’t know; you seem pretty talented at the dramatic arts to me.” Regina retorted.

“Oh shush,” he sniped with a glare, then not talking long enough for Regina feeling the need to fill the silence.

“ _If_ I find out, I’ll only tell you if I think you won’t like it,” she ended up compromising.

“But-”

“No ‘but’s,” she interrupted, before reaffirming; “That’s what I’m going to do.”

“Ok, fine,” he grumbled, folding his arms in front of him.

“What do I get in thanks for this anyway? I’m expecting bouquets and wine at the very least,” the Queen declared.

“I’m sure your method of extracting information from Robin will be enjoyable enough, don’t you?” George teased with a smirk.

Regina’s jaw dropped, “that is-“

“True,” George interrupted.

Regina corrected him with a raised brow – fighting the smirk; “inappropriate.”

“But still true,” he grinned, amused at the reaction he had gotten out of the monarch.

Regina rolled her eyes and looked away, praying that her cheeks didn’t look as flushed as they felt.

When he prompted _“isn’t it?”_ with a teasing smile, Regina quipped; “That’s none of your business.” Though the smirk at remembering certain _activities_ would just not fade away.

She looked back at George with a smile and saw his hopeful, expectant look and couldn’t help but pity the man.

“Fine,” she groaned, “how many days do I have to work my magic?”

He beamed. “Nine.”

“Got it.”

As Regina grabbed the arm of his long t-shirt and pulled him a few steps away from the entrance to her chambers, he chuckled and asked; “Anything I can do to help?”

“Sure,” she replied as she walked past him and pushed open her door, leaving him to wonder whatfor a few moments. Just before the outside world was shut away from the Queen’s chamber, she laughed and called out; “stay out of my way.”

…

The first thing she noted was the smell of chocolate that permeated the air of her chambers.

The second was the bowl Robin had stolen from the kitchen lying on the table by the side of her bed, and a small, silver spoon resting against the edge.

She smirked as she walked over, choosing not to acknowledge the fact that he had broken into her room to put it there, or perhaps she’d just have him make it up to her later…

Regina swiped her finger around the rim of the bowl, leaving a faint chocolaty smear as she lifted the hand to her mouth. But before it reached her lips there were four fingers and a thumb wrapped around her wrist, stopping her intended movement.

Her hand was brought backwards over her shoulder, her finger taken into a warm, wet mouth which belonged to the only person who would  _dare_ to come into her chambers and essentially steal food from her fingertips.

Regina turned her head and was met with the sight of Robin smirking around her finger, his tongue pressing and swirling against her skin to remove all traces of the sweet substance. She couldn’t help but bite her lip when he sucked as he slowly drew her hand away from him.

Damn thief.

Keeping hold of the wrist in his hand, Robin tugged so Regina had no choice but to turn her body to face him. It took all of two seconds before his lips were on hers.

Smirking into the outlaw's mouth, Regina reached behind her, dipping her finger into the bowl and twirling it to prevent making too much mess. She trailed it from his ear to the collar of his shirt, pulling away to smile and wink before she moved to swipe her tongue in a firm lick back up the path she’d taken.

Gripping her hips and lowering his head to bite her shoulder, Robin groaned and nosed the thin blouse that she had decided to wear out of the way. Why she couldn’t just wear easy to remove clothing, he had no idea.

Robin placed a hand under Regina’s chin and tilted her head to the side. Reaching past her, he took the spoon out of the bowl and drizzled an uneven line along her neck. Some of the mixture managed to get on the black cotton of her shirt but Robin couldn’t bring himself to care in the slightest.

The chocolate disappeared fairly quickly; his tongue smoothing over her skin before he scraped his teeth along the junction of her neck, drawing a sigh from the Queen’s lips.

His hand reached around to her back, where there were the laces to a half corset that was securing this damned blouse to her skin and hiding her body from view. Robin tugged, managing to untie the knot and loosen the laces somewhat.

“You faring any better with that this time, outlaw?” Regina teased, remembering the past couple of times where he’d been too impatient and frustrated to remove her corset without a little help.

“See for yourself,” Robin smirked as he stood back and took the offending garment with him.

“Well done thief,” Regina mocked, before pursing her lips and adding; “are you expecting a reward?”

“Removing this damn shirt will be rewarding enough.” He growled.

With a quirk of her eyebrow, Regina stepped back into his space, leaning on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear; “so remove it.” 

His hands came to her shoulders, pushing her back down to the height she was before – which was still a few inches taller than she actually was; her and those damn high heeled boots she loved to wear.

Regina grinned, her hands coming up to his shirt that he had tucked into his waistband and tugging upwards, initially in a flirty manner but then she got impatient and growled when the offending garment would not work with her.

“Leave it on,” Robin ordered, batting her hands away and inching his own her under blouse, encountering soft, warm skin wherever he touched.

“No.” Regina insisted, “I want it off.”

Her lack of success from the repeated attempts had her frustrated. With an impatient huff she waved her hand and the shirt was gone, her fingers free to trail up his torso before her nails lightly scraped the same path back down.

Robin moaned. “That’s cheating, milady.”

“That’s being _resourceful_ , thief.” She teased before she looked down and something on his right arm caught her eye.

“What’s this?” Regina asked, reaching for his wrist.

“It’s nothing.” Robin dismissed.

He wrapped his arms around her and tried to pull her back to him, but she stopped him with her hands on his chest; “Tell me.”

“It was Roland’s idea.” Robin started, reaching again to remove her blouse before Regina grabbed his hand and stopped him in a silent demand for more of an answer. “He was confused as to why the Royals had a Coat of Arms and we – the Merry Men – didn’t.”

Regina smiled. “And so he made you one?”

“Every single one of us.” Robin smiled, looking at the piece of one of Little John’s shirts that had been cut and wrapped around his – and everyone else’s – wrist with a picture of a tree, a bow and arrow and his name followed by ‘ _Merry_ _Man’_ in barely legible writing.

“That’s sweet.”

Robin hummed in agreement. Then feeling impatient he muttered “talking of sweet,” before taking her lips with his. He grabbed the elasticated hem of her blouse and waited until he was somewhat satisfied with her kiss before he pulled upwards, reluctantly parting to remove the item of clothing from her body and loosening her hair in the process.

There was a lock of hair that had almost fallen, precariously being held by a pin, and Robin twirled it around his finger and freed it, a few more strands falling to frame her face alongside it.

“You’ve officially ruined my hairdo now, are you happy?” Regina quipped, acting affronted but wishing it was _completely_ undone so he could run his hands through and tangle his fingers and do that thing where he tugs in just the right way to send shivers down her spine.

“Depends on your definition of ‘ruined’,” Robin stated, reaching up to remove the other pins holding her hair back.

His hands brought her long tresses to her front, his fingers running through her raven hair before he let the locks fall to cover her bare chest. “Better.”

Regina looked down at the hair covering her breasts and then looked back up to Robin with an eyebrow raised in a silent ‘ _are you serious?’_

He chuckled and pushed the hair aside, his thumbs tracing the underside of her breasts before they returned to smooth back and forth over her nipples, correcting himself; “ _This_ is better.”

Regina closed her eyes in a slow blink, letting out a sigh before biting the corner of her lower lip and humming.

“Now then,” Robin started, moving his hands around her sides to slide them between the tight leather adorning her lower half and the smooth skin of her backside, “we have a problem.”

“We do?” She asked, eyebrow raised, humouring him as he got the leather past her hips then realised that removing her boots first might be a good idea.

“Mm-hmm.” With a hand on her stomach he pushed her back until she had to sit on the bed behind her. “I think…” He got to his knees and pulled one boot off. “…We have all this chocolate…” He placed the boot next to her bedside table and then removed the other one. “…And I’m not entirely sure…” He grabbed the leather, forcing her hips up and tugged, shuffling back to facilitate a swift removal. “…where to put it.”

Regina tried to contain her smirk – and failed. “Oh?”

“Any ideas?” Robin grinned as his eyes swept over her figure.

Reaching to her right, she took hold of the spoon and twirled it, taking it out the bowl and holding it up between them, her eyes roaming his chest.

Robin grinned, and then Regina schooled her features into something resembling innocence, teasing “none,” before she wrapped her lips around the spoon, watching his expression change into frustration and then something mischievous.

When her mouth was no longer occupied she barely had time to blink before he pounced, crashing his lips to hers and pushing her until she moved back enough so he could lean over her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he pulled her to him so he could shift her up the bed to lie on it fully, before bringing a knee either side of her, laying more of his weight on her.

Robin blindly reached over, dipping a couple of fingers into the bowl and drawing them back, putting them to Regina’s mouth. He intended to trace her lips with chocolate before stealing another kiss, but she had other ideas; parting her lips and running her tongue along the pads of his fingers with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Robin watched her, entranced. It was a simple thing but _damn_ it felt good.

He withdrew, burying his hand in her hair with a muttered ‘ _God…’_ and then pulled her lips to his, his tongue determined to take every last trace of chocolate from her mouth.

The spoon was dropped on silk sheets in favour of Regina’s hands roaming _everywhere_ ; the toned chest, the strong arms, the firm ass… And her lips quirked into a smile as she realised it was all _hers._

Suddenly feeling very proprietary and having the urge to cover him in chocolate, Regina groped blindly for the spoon again with her eyes still closed and her lips still connected to Robin’s.

Her fingers wrapped around the handle, and she shifted her torso to the right so she had a better chance of actually reaching the bowl. But before she could move any further the metal was taken out of her hand and Robin broke their kiss to sit up and dip the spoon in chocolate himself.

He held the spoon above her stomach and slowly let the mixture fall, drawing a very uneven ‘R’ from where Regina had squirmed as the sensation had tickled her skin.

Shuffling back until the edge of the bed was at middle of his shins, he lowered his head to lick the long strip of chocolate that ran up to the bottom of her ribs. Regina sucked in a harsh breath, holding it in whilst he traced the semi-circle about her navel, then as he followed the last part in a diagonal line _downwards_ Regina couldn’t help but squirm again – though this time it was not from being ticklish…

Robin placed kisses from one hipbone to the other, smirking at Regina’s gasp when he reached halfway and remained there for a small while, his fingers trailing patterns on the sides of her thighs that had her aching to nudge him just that little further down...  

Not one for patience, Regina raised her legs and forced Robin upwards until he had to place a hand next to her head to steady himself. With a grin she flipped them, shifting so she was astride his hips and thoroughly distracting him with her lips, teeth and tongue over his skin.

When Regina leaned away to get her own scoop of chocolate, Robin was left dazed, so much so that he looked at his empty hand with a frown and wondered where he had dropped the spoon.

Regina smirked, sitting straight and biting her lip. She started to draw a heart on his chest, and then kicked herself because _what the hell was she thinking? She was not some doey-eyed teenager with a crush; she was the Evil Queen for God’s sake._

Thinking quick, she turned it into a flower instead. It wasn’t much better than the heart, but at least she didn’t look like a lovesick, little princess. Though the grin on Robin’s face at her design suddenly had her doubting that assumption.

Wanting to wipe the smile off of his face, Regina trailed kisses down his neck, sucking and biting until he was moaning and breathing heavily underneath her, his smirk vanishing in favour of bitten lips.

 _Where to start?_ She hadn’t really thought the flower through properly. She hadn’t really thought the heart through either, though that would have been easier to clean off than this. But Regina was nothing if not determined.

Her lips trailed down, and her nails dragged up. The resulting groan she achieved was almost as perfect as the one Robin released when her tongue started to smooth away her artwork.

Regina felt Robin’s heartbeat pick up under her lips, and as his hands fisted in the sheets at the side of him she heard his breath stutter and felt a swell of pride that she could make the great Prince of Thieves an inarticulate mess with her mouth and chocolate.

With a smug chuckle, Regina trailed her tongue along the lower petal, sucking and laving at the skin until she got impatient and moved onto the next one.

In the time it took her to do all six, Robin had gotten more and more frustrated and needy, tangling a hand in her hair and pulling her up to kiss her lips.

She had faint traces of the mixture on her chin, where she hadn’t quite finished licking off one petal before moving on to the next. But Robin remedied that as his mouth travelled to whatever skin he could reach, before marking her neck with kisses and bites that drew gasps and moans from the Queen’s lips.

Her hips started to move against his. The first grind brought a moan from both their throats at the delicious friction, before Regina fell into a lazy rhythm that slowly pushed them both further into heated desire.

Robin trailed his hands down Regina’s back, his blunt nails dragging across her skin and making her shudder against him with a sigh. Regina moved a hand into his hair to tug his head back into the pillows, diving for his lips and grinding against him a little harder.

She barely had time to curse his damn trousers for existing before he had flipped them, commandeering her mouth again before he slid a hand between her legs, smiling at the breathy moan from beneath him when his fingers started moving against her.

Her hands moved to his trousers but went no further when he started drawing circles around her clit for she could do nothing but gasp and arch her spine. When she regained movement she fumbled with the fastenings, getting frustrated at not being able to undo them in her lust-induced haze, and not being able to do them the more she got frustrated.

With a groan Regina pushed him away from her, using enough force to have him off of the bed and taking a step back.

He looked at her in confusion, but the fire in her gaze and the lust in her voice when she lowly ordered ‘ _remove your trousers’_ had him struggling for breath and forgetting how to think for a moment.

When he came back to himself he inwardly grinned, choosing to _slowly_ move one hand to the band of his trousers, _slowly_ moving the other to join it, then _slowly_ working at his fastenings in an unhurried pace belying the urgency with which he needed the woman in front of him.

Regina’s jaw clenched, her fierce glare flitting from his hands to his face and resisting the urge to shove his hands away and just tear at the material until it did what she wanted.

His thumbs hooked in the waistband and Regina bit her lip. Then he _stopped_ and Regina let out a growl.

“Robin. If you don’t…”

His trousers fell, his erection sprang free and Regina’s lips pursed in a smile as she leaned forward to drag him back on top of her.

Robin had none of it; evading her hands to take the spoon, gather chocolate on it and then hold it above where he was hard and aching.

“There?” Regina asked sceptically.

Robin’s mouth upturned and his brows rose in the facial equivalent of a shrug; “Why not?”

She scoffed. “If you think you’re putting that inside me with chocolate cake mix on it, you have another thing-”

Robin tilted the spoon and watched as he drizzled a wavy line from base to tip.

Regina’s jaw dropped, though she wouldn’t be able to say if it was from the sight in front of her or the fact that she had threatened him and he had done as he pleased anyway. Though she should not have been surprised at the latter; he was hardly one to listen to orders.

“Oops.” Robin teased, not looking apologetic in the slightest.

Regina pursed her lips in a smirk, “and what are you hoping to do with that now?”

“Have you lick it off,” Robin winked.

“Are you going to ask nicely?” She mocked with an eyebrow raised.

“Do I need to?” He countered. “Or would you prefer me to _order_ you to lick my cock?”

Regina scoffed. “You have a dirty mouth.”

Robin hummed in affirmation, leaning forwards until his lips were hovering over hers, “I want to dirty _yours_.”

Regina’s smirk turned into a grin and she gripped his right bicep with her hands, pulling so he was sat on the bed to her left. Then, in one smooth motion, she was kneeling between his legs and looking up at him with a deliciously evil look in her eyes.

“ _God_ …” Robin whispered, his hands gripping the edge of the bed

“And I haven’t even done anything yet,” She teased with a smirk and a raised brow.

“You don’t need to,” Robin stated, taking in the sight of her before him, “I only need to look at you and I’m imagining all the ways to make you scream my name.”

“Are you going to share?” Regina asked as she trailed a series of soft bites and kisses from his knee up to the middle of his thigh.

“With you doing that?” he breathed, “I don’t think I’m capable.”

“I can stop if that makes it easier,” Regina started, moving to lean back.

Robin stopped her with a hand tangling in her luscious, black waves and a firm “no.”

Regina chuckled and Robin amended himself to a gentler; “don’t stop.”

With a smirk Regina trailed her hands up his calves and rested them on top of his thighs, before continuing to lay her trail of kisses higher and higher…

The Queen couldn’t resist pausing _just_ shy of where he obviously wanted her – a little payback for thinking teasing her with the removal of his trousers was appropriate – breathing over him and smiling as he twitched.

Taking pity on his agonised groan, she curled her tongue around the side of him and shifted forwards, catching the droplets of chocolate that threatened to fall before they had the chance, drawing a moan and a sigh from the thief. Her hand came to wrap around the base, gently squeezing as she dropped kisses on him in no particular pattern, managing to rid him of at least a little of the chocolate.

Taking the tip of him into her mouth, Regina dragged her nails of her free hand along the inside of his thigh, smirking around him at the harsh intake of breath.

His moan encouraged her to take him deeper, a pleased hum escaping her and making Robin tighten his grip on her hair. She hollowed her cheeks and pulled back until she could look up at him without straining, smirking as she twirled her tongue around the tip of him, enjoying the way his head lolled back before she averted her gaze downwards, lowering her head until her lips met the top of her hand.

Robin let go of her hair to reach behind him for support, the other hand flailing in the air for a moment before coming to rest on the one she had wrapped around him, prompting her to start stroking in slow movements in tandem with her mouth.  

“God…” Robin groaned as his hand moved to grip the edge of the bed, pulling at the sheets with white knuckles.

In no time at all Regina picked up the pace, trailing nails up his thigh until she had his balls cupped in her hand, thrilled at Robin’s attempts to say _something_ coming out as mere garbled ramblings.

She slowed down, teasing him and making him groan as his rapid ascent slowed to a steady climb. But it didn’t last long before he tangled his hand back in her hair and started guiding her head up and down at the pace she was going at before.

Regina moved her hands to his thighs and let her jaw go slack, letting Robin control how fast and how deep he wanted to go as she shifted to rest on her heel so she had _something_ to help relieve the burning ache between her legs.

On one particularly harsh thrust, he pushed his hips too far forward and Regina coughed, digging her nails into his skin. Robin pulled out and ran hands through her hair.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice laden with concern.

Regina let out a soft, ironic laugh, if only everyone had treated her like this when she had bedded them.

“I’m fine.” She said, then when she saw scepticism show through his smile, added a teasing; “you’re just so _big…_ ”

It got the desired effect; he looked halfway between laughing and taking her _right there._

Biting her lip, Regina went to resume making the outlaw come apart, but he had other ideas; halting her with a hand on his shoulder as he gruffly voiced; “I want you.”

She let him pull her to lie underneath him, swallowing as she felt him hot and hard against her as he mouthed at her neck and ground against her.

When she wrapped a leg around his waist and raised her hips to meet him he groaned in her ear, vowing; “I’m going to take you so hard you pass out.”

Regina smirked, rolling them over, lurching forward and fisting her hands in the sheets either side of his head.

“Not if I make you pass out first.”

…

Robin woke up a while later to find the other side of the bed empty. And whilst he was used to waking up alone in his own bed, waking up alone in someone else’s was not all that common.

He sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes and squinting in the slowly descending darkness to try and find out where his Queen had got to.

He had managed half a sweep of the room before he noted an unmistakable figure on the balcony, a silhouette that was likely to be held in his memory forever, the image of poise and grace with soft curves and long hair.

With a smile, Robin threw the covers away from him, donning underclothes before padding barefoot towards where his Queen stood in a simple robe. He had made it halfway across the cold floor before he noted the reason for her standing there.

The sky was alive.

The inky blue, twilight sky, full of dark clouds that hid the rays of the moon and the twinkle of the stars, was lit up with hundreds upon hundreds of lightning bugs. The insects created swirling patterns that waved and crested, the golden light becoming bright for a moment before dissipating when the bugs moved to their next grand display. 

It was at times like these where Robin was reminded why he had always found nature so breath-taking.

“What’s this?” He asked, coming to stand behind her and then leaning to the left so he could see the sky over her shoulder.

“It doesn’t happen here often; only once every couple of years,” Regina started, her voice soft and content, completely absorbed in thought. The lack of huskiness in her tone made it seem light, made her sound so much younger. “When I was new to the castle, when I was so tiredof my life, I’d look for some sort of sign that things would get better. That they _could_ get better, one day.”

Robin sighed and frowned, his gaze falling to the floor. In times where it was just them, just him and Regina having fun and bringing pleasure to each other, it was easy to forget that she had this dark history that followed her everywhere.

“I stumbled across this display of fireflies one night when I was feeling… down, and it brought a smile to my face.” Robin watched as a small, serene smile tugged at the corners of Regina’s lips at the memory. “I mean they’re just insects but I… I don’t know, they just helped me forget for a little while. It was nice.”

He snaked his arms around her from behind, humming as he pressed a kiss to her temple and tightening his embrace for a moment before he rested his chin on her shoulder. Regina brought her arms up to rest over his where they were wrapped around her torso, her palms over the backs of his hands as her fingers entwined with his, sighing as she leaned into him and they both watched the lights dance across the sky.

“Regina…” Robin started, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

Regina hummed in question, feeling a little too content to bother with the effort of using her vocal chords to speak.

All the things that Robin wanted to say flashed before him. Things like “ _I won’t let you feel like that again”_ and _“I want to make you happy”_ gotstuckon the tip of his tongue. He almost said them, almost let a couple of his more sentimental thoughts towards her loose, but she turned her head to look at him and his words died away.

She looked content, a light shining in her eyes that he rarely saw – that _anyone_ rarely saw – and the realisation that he was lucky enough to see the _‘Evil’_ Queen like this made a smile tug at his lips. Her attention was drawn to them, and before he knew it she had craned her neck a little to press a kiss to his mouth.

It didn’t last long; she was pulling away in a matter of seconds. But the smile she gave him after – warm, caring, sincere – was worth her turning to face the sky before he could properly taste her lips.

Robin didn’t need to say anything; she knew. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, Regina knew that he cared for her.

He held her tighter, just wanting to enjoy the moment they were in. All Robin wanted was to stay like this; feeling content, his Regina in his arms, both of them at peace in this crazy world of hers.

He just wanted to enjoy this calm moment before life decided it was time to throw something else at them.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I completely forgot to upload 16.   
> I'm so so sorry.   
> Have two chapters in a row.

It lasted two days.

The peace and quiet that Robin had hoped for? Merely 48 hours later and it was in tatters.

He had gone to find Regina, to confess that _yes, he stole the last slice of the chocolate cake_ and _no, he was not sorry._ He had thought she’d be slightly irritated – call him a ‘thief’ as she pretended to be much angrier than she was until she broke and laughed at him – and then when he would offer to make it up to her through _very_ salacious means, it would all be forgotten and they’d lose themselves in each other for an hour or two.

No such luck.

He’d checked her room first – it was only a small detour from the route to the library, dining hall, council chamber and anywhere else she might be – but there was no sign of her.

He was about half way to the library when he heard the news from passers-by; Zelena had returned. 

His heart leapt into his throat, his mind flickering to images of Regina broken and lifeless from the last time that witch had decided to make her presence known. If Zelena had harmed a hair on Regina’s head Robin internally swore he would personally hunt her down and repeat the injuries tenfold back to her.

The once leisurely journey to find Regina turned incredibly hasty.

Not wanting to waste time stopping at places that she may not even be, Robin asked those he passed if they knew where the Queen was. He gained a few strange looks and a couple of dismissive scoffs, until one of the royal knights mentioned the last time he saw her was in the general council chamber.

When he arrived it was to the Queen, Prince and Princess deep in conversation, all of them clearly on edge. Nevertheless, despite the obvious turmoil, Robin couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at the sight of Regina arguing with the Charmings and looking perfectly intact, disregarding the frown scrunching her beautiful features.

“Regina…” he breathed, and her glare switched from the Charmings to him.

“What do you want?” she asked, her voice distant and devoid of the warmth he had recently gotten used to.

“I…” he started, tampering down the slight annoyance threatening to seep into his voice at the cold welcome, “I just wanted to make sure you were ok. I heard Zelena returned.”

“She did. I’m fine,” the Queen declared, then turned back to Snow and Charming, pointing at some aged papers on the table and talking about ancient magic.

Robin stood there, feeling a little affronted at the lack of anything Regina was showing him, when only yesterday she had joined him and Roland to have a slice of their cake, had puffed out her cheeks to mock him when he had tried to eat a mouthful that was too large to chew comfortably.

Mind, it wasn’t as if the Prince and Princess were any better; their attention was on Regina in a way he had never seen before, their eyes wide and serious as they tried to understand every little detail the Queen was saying. Completely oblivious to their surroundings.

It wasn’t a few moments later before Robin started to feel a little uncomfortable, and the feeling only worsened when Regina looked back at him and asked; “Are you just going to stand there?”

“No,” Robin cleared his throat and stepped forwards. “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” she stated. “We don’t need your interfering, just go back to Roland.”

“Regina…” Robin frowned, trying to sound neutral as he spoke her name, though he realised a little warning seeped through in his tone regardless.

The Queen didn’t take too kindly to hearing it.

“I don’t need you, nor do I want you,” she snapped, turning back to her papers after she ordered; “go back to your son, thief.”

Robin ground his jaw, clenched his fists, half tempted to fight fire with fire and retort back, half tempted to try and ease whatever was plaguing the Queen.

He ended up doing neither.

Compromising between the two and saying nothing, Robin chose to take a deep breath, and return to Regina some other time, perhaps when his anger had deflated and he wasn’t at risk of making the situation worse.

Perhaps later she’d be a little more receptive to him and his attempts to help.

…

For the next couple of days Regina stayed in the West Wing Library, alternating between learning protection spells suitable for a mother and an unborn child, and studying the magic received from Merlin in the hopes that perhaps it could help their situation somehow _._ It was easier than focussing on the fact that her wicked sister wanted Snow’s baby and was holding a very-much-alive Rumpelstiltskin captive.

She thought she had gained a lead at one point; there were mere mentions of a spell that appeared to its user, though there was no mention of under what circumstances, or the type of spell, or where it came from – apart from Camelot… So it was put aside rather quickly.

And all the protection spells were either too weak – Zelena was part of the Mills family; they prided themselves on being strong in everything – or there were risks involving children, especially unborn ones.

The repeated failures had her frustration piling up to the point of clenching her fists so hard the vase on the table smashed from the destructive magic that seeped through. The effort to not find other things to take her anger out on had left her feeling somewhat drained.

She had fallen asleep at the table as she had researched further, her head in the crook of her elbow resting on one book, her right hand on another, with three further books, four scrolls and pieces of the broken vase surrounding her on the wooden surface – in addition to the items that she hadn’t moved when she sat down; quill, ink, boxes and clean paper.

When she had awoken, it had been to a stiff neck, a numb hand and a surprisingly clean work space; the only things left were the book she had fallen asleep on, and a heavy, leather-bound journal with several torn pieces of paper as bookmarks that she had most definitely not been using the day before.

It had taken a moment or two of her staring bleary eyed at the work area in front of her before she noted a square piece of paper with one corner tucked under the new book. Leaning forwards and tilting her head, Regina was able to see the neat, flowing, cursive note left behind.

_I was checking some books out for light reading when I came across this. I thought it may help with your research._

_Belle,_

Regina frowned. Her eyes flickered between the note and the book, immediately suspicious. Why would _Belle_ help _her_? On second thoughts; why would _anyone_? Especially with this.

Unless they had something to gain.

With Zelena’s threat from a couple of days ago still in the forefront of her mind, Regina couldn’t help but wonder if this was one of her sister’s tricks. It was unlikely that she’d leave her a _book_ , but Regina knew all too well that curiosity was a powerful weapon; plant the seed and your victim would practically do all the work for you. She had employed that trick many a time. She would not fall victim to it.

To quell her feelings of unease, Regina hovered a hand over her book, the old elvish spell _lietha guldur_ dispelling any magic that the book could have possibly been enchanted with, and then casting a safety spell over it, just to be sure.

When she was satisfied that opening the book wouldn’t result in her imminent demise, Regina cautiously turned the first page. Finding the language to be ancient Gaelic, the first question in her mind was; _how the hell was she supposed to translate this?_ The second being; _how the hell did_ Belle _manage it?_

Regina made it four pages in, looking for any similarities between the language on the paper and the languages she already knew in her head, finding nothing.

Giving up and turning to one of the bookmarks, Regina was surprised to find a folded up piece of paper with a summary of the text in English tucked between the pages.

Regina had to hand it to the bookworm; she was smarter than she was given credit for. With reluctance, the Queen realised she may have to thank her.

The sound of the doors opening and closing to the right of her caused Regina to tense and let out a huff of annoyance. She wasn’t really in the mood for company and was _really_ not needing anything else to be stressed about, lest the entire library suffer the same fate as the glass vase that was no more.

But the smell of food invaded Regina’s stomach and all of a sudden she felt so very hungry. A plate of Blancmanger appeared in front of her, along with cutlery, a goblet and the hand that retreated out of her vision before the sound of a chair being moved reached her ears.

With a sigh – and resigning herself to spend a couple of minutes with whomever had brought her food as a way to ensure it stayed in front of her long enough to eat it – Regina turned to thank the person who was now seated next to her.

The Queen expected it to be Snow, or Charming, or Robin – although Regina was aware that she hadn’t been the kindest to the outlaw a couple of days ago, she supposed she should make a peace offering of some sort soon if she had upset him enough to not visit her. The last person she expected to see sat beside her was her friend-turned-enemy-turned-friend-again that went by the name of Tinkerbell.

“What are you doing here?”

“Well don’t act so excited to see me, Regina,” the fairy quipped.

Regina smiled, genuinely happy to see a friendly face from somebody who didn’t have a need to check up on her every second of the day. “It’s good to see you Tink,” she admitted, “though I would like to know why you’re here; last I heard you were with the other fairies trying to restart the pixie dust mines.”

“I got tired of Blue’s constant bitching so I came back for a break. I arrived early this morning, looked for you in the dining hall but you weren’t there. I wanted to say hello and Snow said you would be here so…” Tinkerbell rambled, before adding a flamboyant; “tadaa! Hello.”

“Hello, dear,” Regina replied, not being able to hold back from putting a mouthful of the chicken and rice into her mouth and letting out a small, satisfied moan.

“When was the last time you ate, Regina?” Tink asked, and Regina sent a glare her way that had the fairy raising her hands in surrender and adding; “not that I’m checking up on you or anything.”

“Sometime yesterday,” Regina admitted once she had swallowed, waving a hand in dismissal before chewing another mouthful.

The fairy huffed at her friend’s eating habits but said nothing more, not wanting to incur the wrath of the Queen when she had come to the castle for a break.

It was quiet for short while, Regina eating the food in front of her as Tink looked over the couple of books in front of her before she got bored and stated; “Snow told me about what’s been going on.”

Regina rolled her eyes, _of course she had; nothing really changes._ Snow had probably divulged every detail of everything she knew of what had happened at the castle in the past few months.

“Snow’s a gossip and cannot keep her mouth shut.” Regina retorted, before adding; “and Robin and I are not her business.”

There was a pause before Tink stated; “She only told me about Zelena and the baby.”

Regina closed her eyes and mentally kicked herself. _Way to go, Regina_ ; Tink delved into her private life almost as much as her step daughter did.

Sure enough, the fairy leant forwards, elbow on the table as she wholly faced Regina with a smirk on her lips and asked; “so… what’s with you and Robin?”

“Nothing,” Regina quickly denied, looking back down to her plate and putting more food in her mouth.

“Regina, you are a terrible liar,” the fairy laughed. “Tell me.”

The Queen took her time chewing her mouthful, avoiding the inevitable. The moment she swallowed Tink nudged her elbow and the fairy’s smirk turned into a grin.

“We’re just sleeping together,” Regina stated, trying to ignore her mind protesting otherwise as the words tasted wrong leaving her mouth.

“Do you think I’m a fool, Regina?” Tink sassed, before shaking her head and saying; “try again.”

With a short, frustrated sigh, Regina watched as she moved her fork around the half empty plate before her.

Her mouth opened several times to try and say _something,_ but the best she came up with was the usual; “it’s complicated.”

Of course the fairy couldn’t leave it there, tilting her head and asking; “Complicated how?”

“Just… complicated,” Regina stated. “I don’t know.”

“Do you love him?” Tink asked, and Regina nearly choked on the food she had just tried to swallow.

“It’s not like that,” she answered once her breathing was even.

“Then what _is_ it like?”

“It’s just…” Regina paused, choosing to keep all the uncertainty about how deep her feelings went for the outlaw hidden, and merely stating; “it’s nice.”

Tink scrunched her face up; “ _nice?_ ”

“Yes; nice,” Regina stated. “He’s a good man, treats me as more than the Evil Queen, and I enjoy spending time with him.”

“Is the sex good?” Tink asked with a sly smirk.

Regina turned to her, wide eyes, slightly scandalised, awaiting her friend’s ‘ _just joking’_ but it never came. So, playing along, she smirked back, winked and whispered; “ _extremely.”_

Tinkerbell’s laughter was contagious, having Regina’s smirk morphing into a grin and then turning in a chuckle.

 _This was what she needed,_ Regina mused; _a little laughter with a friend._

…

They caught up for a short while, ending up with their chairs facing each other. One of Tink’s dainty feet rested on the edge of Regina’s seat and Regina’s legs were crossed with the toes of one foot occasionally tapping the wooden bar across the bottom of Tink’s chair.

The Queen ended up conjuring wine and a second goblet, sharing a drink with her friend and finding herself more relaxed than she had in the past couple of days altogether. Though Tink had this way of weakening her verbal filter – which was already slightly fuzzy from the drink – and so she had ended up confessing more than she originally wanted to; the worries about Snow and her baby, the expectation that her magic was at the Kingdom’s beck and call, the soldiering through without Henry (though that topic had been swiftly moved past), and the general ease of ruling a kingdom where not everybody despises the monarch…

Eventually they moved onto Tink as she began rambling about how she hated the ‘shady bitch’ in charge of things, how the regime was overly strict and the only reason why she had gotten away with leaving was because she was a rebel and it was to be expected of her. She had hoped the Dark Palace would be less hectic, but as Regina had updated the fairy on all the goings on, it became evident that it wasn’t.

And as Tink started to feel a faint magical shift in their surroundings, she huffed and started to wish she had stayed at the mines.

“Regina, do you feel that?” Tink asked, narrowing her eyes and glancing around the room.

The Queen placed her goblet down and sat up straighter. “Feel what?”

“I don’t know,” Tink confessed – earning an eyeroll from Regina – before adding; “something magic.”

Regina stood, about to cast _parm temple tengwa_ to make visible whatever magic was being used, but Tink beat her to it; taking out her wand from the little green bag she had over her shoulder and illuminating the source of her momentary discomfort.

It was a piece of parchment on the table, one Regina had studied far too closely. Her name had long since faded but she knew that there was more to it.

Tink reached for it, withdrawing when Regina tapped the back of her hand and picked it up herself, asking; “What’s that?”

“It’s the spell that Snow got from Merlin a week ago, though it’s been dormant since my name faded away.”

“It’s not dormant now,” Tink pointed out, tilting her head and watching as a series of symbols appeared.

“No, it’s not,” Regina agreed, leaning over the table she had been working on, taking a spare piece of paper and the quill and copying everything that had suddenly appeared. At Tink’s questioning gaze, Regina offered a short explanation; “I don’t want them to fade before I get the chance to study them.”

The fairy nodded, then tilted her head to the other side and frowned, asking; “Is it me, or does that look similar to ancient Gaelic?”

Regina shrugged, noting definite similarities to the book Belle had left for her, but also noting several differences, so there was nothing definitive just yet.

“I could help look it up for you, if you like?” Tink offered.

Initially, Regina was going to tell her that it was fine; she could manage by herself, that way she’d know that it was done properly. But Tink was as advanced in magic as she was, she’d know what to look for and Regina knew she wasn’t going to demand anything in return…

With a nod and a sincere ‘thanks’, Regina sat back down, sliding the book Belle had given her over to Tink, and going back through the book she had fallen asleep on, preparing for a long day ahead of them.

…

Come evening, Regina found herself standing outside Robin’s room, hand poised to knock, and wondering – not for the first time – what the hell she was doing.

This wasn’t her. She didn’t try to _make amends_ ; she fucked up and then ignored it, or found blame in others. And purposely going out of her way to try and make things better? In the words of her mother; “ _grovelling means you have no pride, dear. Let them come to you._ ”

But this was _Robin._ And to be fair; he had only been trying to help, it wasn’t exactly a punishable offence.  

Yes, she was busy and stressed and having to deal with a worried Snow (who was apparently even more insufferable than a hopeful Snow), and the outlaw had this tone of voice that sounded as if he was about to reprimand a child – which in no way, shape or form was acceptable – but admittedly, she shouldn’t have taken her emotions out on him.

So, taking a breath and pushing aside all the voices telling her she was insane, she raised her hand again to knock.

“Regina?” She heard from her right, a familiar voice she knew, but one she wasn’t really wanting to hear at the moment.

“George, hi,” she greeted, turning to him.

“Hi,” he returned with a smile, before taking note of whose door she was in front of. “Are you wanting Robin?”

She heard the slight suggestion in his tone, and brushed it off, stating; “Yes. Is he in?”

“Not sure,” he shrugged, before asking; “have you knocked?”

“Not yet,” she admitted, her heart picking up speed a little when George reached out and rapped his knuckles against the door in a quick rhythm. _There was no running away now_.

George leaned forward towards her ear, as if to whisper a secret, but instead offering a mocking; “knocking somewhat helps, your majesty.”

Regina nudged him with her elbow and rolled her eyes, about to retort with something witty when suddenly the door swung open, leaving her face to face with one rugged outlaw in his usual garb of green trousers and a white, long sleeved shirt – leaving Regina to wonder; _does he even own any other clothes?_

He greeted her with a slight bow and a cordial ‘ _your majesty’,_ something Regina had insisted upon for the first three months of him residing in her castle. Now it just seemed… _wrong._  

“Can we talk?” Regina asked, biting the inside of her lower lip.

She relaxed a little at his nod, even more so at his quiet ’ _of course’,_ but the moments where she stepped back to let him out into the corridor were filled with an awkward silence that Regina hated with every fibre of her being. 

Robin’s gaze fell on his door, a frown appearing on his features and Regina felt her heart sink a little; _was he really so mad at her to want to escape already?_

But then George spoke up from somewhere behind her, offering; “I’ll watch the little tyke whilst you two ‘ _talk’_.”

 _Oh, right; Roland,_ Regina remembered, recollecting how easy it was for Henry to get into trouble the split second her back was turned when he was that age. Though she refused to let her thoughts go down that painful route; instead she chose to roll her eyes at the younger man’s apparent need to turn _everything_ into something lewd _._

Robin didn’t seem to be fazed though, nodding and expressing thanks as he put his hands in his pockets.

George stepped into Robin’s room, letting out a loud “right, you little monkey…” before the door closed shut, leaving them both standing out in the empty, painfully quiet corridor.

The outlaw was staring at the floor in front of her feet, apparently unwilling to meet her gaze. A tiny part of Regina called him _petty_ at the action _._

Nevertheless, she had come here for a reason.

 “I snapped at you,” she stated.

She watched as Robin met her eyes for a second before he looked away again. “Yeah, you did.”

Regina internally sighed; _must the thief always be so difficult?_

Turning her head – and her glare – away and pursing her lips to the side of her mouth before pressing them together, she casually shrugged and mumbled a quick, nonchalant, almost inaudible; “M’sorry”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Robin raise his gaze to look at her with a surprised smirk, tilting his head and asking a mocking; “What was that, your majesty?”

“You heard,” she scowled, glaring at him once more.

He huffed, his smile slightly fading as he ran his hand through his hair, his muscles flexing under his shirt in such a way that had Regina suddenly remembering it had been five _very long days_ since she’d last had the outlaw’s body on top of hers.

Too long.

Slowly walking up to him, Regina placed her arms over his shoulders, dipping her head to meet his petulantly averted gaze and drawling; “can I make it up to you?”

The smirk he was fighting won out and he turned his head to face her, catching sight of her mischievous smile and the light behind her eyes.

Who was he kidding? He couldn’t stay mad at her for two seconds.

With a roll of his eyes he leaned down and captured her lips with his, turning them and backing her up against the wall to the left of him, one hand gently tugging at the decorative restraint in her hair until it fell down in loose waves, the other gripping her hip and pulling her lower half towards him, both of them moaning at the contact.

_Oh, how they had missed this._

…

As they tumbled onto Regina’s bed when her magic had whisked them away to somewhere more private – their kisses having turned a little too _intimate_ for somewhere open to the general occupants of the castle – it was evident that they had missed _this_ more.

Regina was pretty sure that the red coat she had delicately fastened that morning – now lying in a crumpled heap at the foot of her bed – was beyond repair. Although it wasn’t as if the shirt hanging off of the outlaw’s shoulders was faring much better if the loud tears made from her nails were anything to go by.

Her red corset was after. Regina couldn’t be sure if that was salvageable or not either, but she had given up caring when he had lowered his mouth to her neck, biting then soothing then biting a little harder before moving slightly lower each time. When he eased off into merely kissing down her sternum, Regina’s breath hitched, one of her hands tangling in his hair, the other moving to unfasten the leather trousers she had donned without the knowledge that she would be in such a haste to remove them.

Robin batted her hand away, pressing kisses and swipes of his tongue towards her navel as he shifted back and tugged the damned garment with him, tossing it aside the moment it had been pulled off of her feet.  

His hands grasped her hips, drawing her further down the bed to him as he towered over her, nestled between her thighs, returning to suckling kisses at her neck that would no doubt leave marks behind once he had finished.

Regina moaned, grasping his arms and rolling her hips up to grind against him before she realised he was wearing _far too much_ clothing, which was _completely_ unfair. With a wave of her hand, his trousers, torn shirt and both of their underwear were gone in the need to feel him hard and hot against her. The sudden contact left him moaning into her skin, his teeth grazing her collar bone when she rolled her hips and he slid against her. Before she could reach down and guide him into her, the grip Robin had on her hips suddenly tightened as he turned her onto her front, wasting no time in continuing his kisses along the back of her neck and across her shoulders – albeit with more heat and passion behind them than before.

Regina hummed, feeling herself sinking into her mattress as she rested her head on her folded arms, closing her eyes with a small smile. She shifted a little under him, purposely brushing her ass against him and grinning at his heavy sigh into her skin. Though he retaliated with a sharp bite just below her shoulder blade, causing her to grit her teeth as she inhaled sharply.

The outlaw chuckled at his small victory before soothing his movements once again, starting to place a trail of kisses down her spine as his fingertips traced a path between every single mark on her perfect, olive skin. He reached the small of her back, pressing kisses to the dimples either side before he moved even lower, scraping his blunt nails up her thighs before grasping her hips to stop her squirming at the indentations his teeth were putting in the flesh of her ass.

The quick sting then soothing heat had Regina’s arms outstretching, fingers grasping hold of her pillow as she gasped, digging her knees into her bedding and raising her hips to try and get just that little bit more sensation to ease the ache that was building so very quickly between her thighs.

But the outlaw was torturing her, taking his damn time to get _anywhere_ near where she wanted him to be; he’d give a quick kiss or lick that _just_ brushed past where she needed him and then he’d be gone again. It was penance for snapping at him, she was sure of that. Setting her body alight and then refusing to tend to the flame burning inside her. But then one of his ‘quick’ kisses lingered, his tongue sneaking out to taste her with a small moan – her body tensing and letting out a quiet whimper in response – and she decided that perhaps it would be worth it in the end.

His hands grasped the bottom of her arse, bending her at the waist to a better angle so he could _finally_ put his mouth to work between her thighs and _oh - that was more like it._

The pillow case beneath her hands crumpled and her breath left her on a harsh exhale as she ground her forehead into her mattress. The little moans and sighs she told herself would stay firmly within her throat put up no fight in mingling with the heavy air in her room.

One of Robin’s hands trailed upwards, firmly squeezing and kneading her rear as his tongue worked wonders and his chin brushed her clit. Regina threw her head back, eyes travelling over her plush headboard as she tried to catch her breath, but then he dragged his hand back down to her thigh, his fingernails leaving four dark pink marks along their path, and her head dropped back down with a groan.

“Robin,” she breathed, blindly reaching a hand back to try and draw his attention when he made no efforts to stop.

Her second attempt at saying his name was a little louder, and succeeded in him parting long enough for her to fumble through the words; “I- I need you inside.”

With a husky chuckle – and a quick nip to her ass for good measure – Robin shifted to lean over her, wrapping his right arm underneath her waist when she moved to lie back down.

“I want you on your knees,” he growled into her ear, having Regina swallowing and nodding her head as she raised herself back to where she was, supporting her weight on her forearms.

Robin retreated a little, taking himself in hand and brushing back and forth over her entrance before he sank into her with a deep moan through gritted teeth – Regina releasing one to compliment his.

He started off slow. Easing in then drawing out, easing in then drawing out, a steady rhythm that had Regina rocking back into him to try and speed things along, groaning when he started to comply.

It occurred to Regina that she didn’t let just _anyone_ take her like this; there were few people she trusted enough to let her guard down enough, and she was a _Queen_ , it was completely improper and not exactly the most dignified of positions, her mother would have a coronary if she knew…

But _oh, it felt so good._

And when he thrusted _just like that_ and hit a spot _right there…_ Regina couldn’t find a single fibre of her being that wanted Robin differently.

So she pushed back into him with a breathy ‘ _harder’,_ the sound of skin meeting skin echoing louder around the room as his hands gripped her hips and he redoubled his efforts to pound into her.

Robin raised a hand to run through his sweat-damp hair, his mouth running dry as he took in the sight before him. The soft curves, the olive skin, the raven locks splayed out over the sheets… It was enough to drive a lesser man insane. How anyone could ever see a sight like this and not believe Goddesses existed was beyond him. They would be a fool.

Robin was no fool. Except for when she clenched around him; then his vocabulary was limited to a few curse words and an unintelligible mumble of the Queen’s name.

She did it again and his hand flew to her backside, landing with a slight smack that had Regina letting out a faint gasp.

Robin had an apology on the tip of his tongue, but then she moaned and pushed back into him a little more fervently, and his brain vaguely recollected promises of ‘ _I might do that next time’_ and ‘ _I might let you’_ andhis hand reconnected with her ass before he even processed what he was doing.

“Regina…”

Whatever words Robin was about to say – not that he was sure himself – were cut off by Regina’s demand of; “harder.”

Knowing he’d never deny her anything, Robin brought his hand down with a little more force, acquiescing to Regina’s desires and thoroughly enjoying the throaty moan that made its way past her lips. He repeated the action, once, twice, three more times, before his hand travelled back to her hip and returned to pulling her into him, because there was no possible way he could hold out for her if he continued.

He needn’t have worried; his gaze followed Regina as she shifted slightly to one side so she could reach down and press her fingertips between her thighs, her legs quivering as her breathing hitched and she started to tense around him.

A breathy plea of Robin’s name left her lips, her hips moving more erratically against his as she coiled tighter and tighter, trying to pull him off of the edge with her.

The moment her muscles started contracting around him he was gone, careening forward and throwing out his left hand just quick enough to not knock them both into the mattress. Her hips still moved against his, riding out her high. Her breathy moans and light sighs filled his ears as she took all the pleasure she could.

They collapsed back to the bed with satisfied groans, Regina straightening her knees with a grimace as Robin moved to lie on his back beside her, pulling up the bedspread to cover them as the both started to calm their heart rates and blood pressures.

Regina’s eyes closed upon a deep exhale, tugging the cover higher as she shifted up to rest on her pillows.

Robin followed, resting his head on the soft fabric that smelt like Regina’s hair and toeing at the clothing they had left at the bottom of the bed when it started to tangle around his feet.

When a faint thud indicated he had won the battle against the Queen’s corset, he heard a small sound of displeasure to the left of him.

“I’ll pick it up when I leave,” he offered, knowing Regina’s dislike for leaving her garments on the floor overnight.

She hummed, ensuring; “make sure you do.”

“You have my word.”

The promise seemed to placate the Queen, her breathing evening out as her features relaxed and sleep pulled her under.

Robin couldn’t resist staying awake for a little longer, admiring the Queen in her natural state as he gently ran his fingertips over the dark hair that spread onto his pillow in addition to her own.

It wasn’t long before the monotonous motion of his fingers became far too taxing for his tired limbs, his hand relaxing as his body joined Regina in slumber.

…

_She knows this place._

_The place where she lost her love, her light, her freedom, her happiness…_

_She lost everything she ever wanted here._

_It still smells the same; the crisp, outdoor scent mixed with leather and horses that Daniel seemed to carry around with him wherever he went._

_Though a breeze carries through a woodland scent, and replaces the overwhelming nostalgia with something instantly calming._

_The doors swing open, and Regina takes in the sight of the woman who strolls in with a pounding heart._

_The dark red dress, the black overcoat, the hair piled on top of her head, the class and royalty exuding from every inch as brown eyes shine with a vindictive cold-bloodedness that strikes fear in Regina’s soul._

_“Mother…”_

_“Honestly Regina, don’t you ever learn?” She starts, taking slow steps forward, “First you fall for a stable boy, now you’re cavorting with an outlaw? What am I going to do with you?”_

_Regina subconsciously takes a step back, a shaky “mother…” whispered into the midnight air._

_“Or the more important question-“ Cora starts, pausing and clearly enjoying the effect the pregnant pause has on Regina before a wicked glint shines in her eyes and she continues; “what am I going to do with_ him _?”_

_Regina’s eyes widen when Robin materialises in a cloud of red smoke beside her mother, and her breath leaves her in a trembling exhale._

_“What are you doing?” She asks, watching as Robin grasps his bearings before stating a stronger; “Don’t hurt him.”_

_“How sweet…” Cora mocks, before her features harden as she adds; “You’re forgetting the one lesson I always tried to teach you, dear.”_

_Regina’s heart thunders in her chest, her breaths come out short and uneven as she tries to move but finds her body unwilling to cooperate. Robin catches her gaze, his eyes questioning but still with the kindness he’s always shown her, ever since the first day they met_

_She hears her mother’s declaration of “Love is weakness,” and instantaneously agrees; she remembers the way in which she crumbled when she lost Daniel, and swore that she’d never put herself at risk of feeling that helpless again. But here she is; frozen to the spot in fear of what will happen to Robin, where instead, she should be throwing fireballs or pushing Cora away or transporting her thief to somewhere he won’t be in danger._

_But she’s just stood still, watching as her mother sinks her hand into Robin’s chest and pulls out his heart, holding the pulsing, red organ tinged with the slightest of darkness in the palm of her hand. Once again, her mother is threatening to destroy one of the few reasons Regina has to smile, continuing her quest to break her daughter into small enough pieces that she fits the mould of a powerful, heartless Queen. Regina’s not entirely sure she could go through that again._

_When Cora starts to crush Robin’s heart, he falls to his knees, clutching his chest and looking up at Regina. Though instead of the kindness she usually finds in his gaze, his eyes are accusatory and harsh, betrayal all over his face._

_“This is your fault.” He wheezes out. Regina manages to takes a step back, her eyes not leaving Robin’s._

_“No,” Regina whimpers, “please.”_

_As she sees a stream of dust falling from her mother’s hand, she hears his faint whisper._

_“I’ll die because of you.”_

Regina shot up into an almost sitting position, her eyes wide open, her heart pounding, her chest heaving, looking around until she realised that it wasn’t real; it was all just a dream… Just a dream. It was ok… She was ok.

She heard a voice from somewhere to the right of her, and when she turned to see a figure stood to the side of the bed, leaning towards her, the sound of her name being uttered again by the only person in the castle who could calm her with one word, she could not help the small sigh of relief that left her lips.

In the darkness she was hardly able to work out his features, but somehow she could feel the concern radiating off of him. Regina couldn’t help but touch her fingers to his chest to feel his heartbeat, whispering; “It’s ok.” Though if it was to comfort him or herself? She couldn’t be sure.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his hand coming up to brush away the hair sticking to her temple, his thumb caressing her cheekbone.

“I’m fine,” she dismissed.

Robin frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Regina let out a long breath and lay back down, a hand rubbing her forehead as she tried to relax somewhat.

Robin stood, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched her before cautiously asking; “do you want to talk about it?”

She let out a wry chuckle. “Not particularly.”

“Ok.”

Nodding, Robin removed the shirt he had just donned, laying it at the bottom of the bed alongside the neatly folded garments they discarded earlier before he pulled back the heavy covers, climbing back into bed, the sheets still warm around him.

“What are you doing?” Regina asked, turning her head to look at him.

“I’ve still got a short while before sunrise. And I’m not leaving you like this,” he replied, pulling the cover up to his chest and resting his right arm over it, the other outstretched towards her. “Come here.”

Regina lifted her head in confusion, but Robin slid his arm under her and nudged her closer to him. When she didn’t move any closer and still looked at him with a perplexed expression, Robin buried his hand in her hair and gently guided her head to his shoulder, muttering; “Stubborn woman.”

Regina tensed against him, her eyes darting the door working out the easiest way to escape the outlaw’s simple but overwhelming gesture of affection, and then her gaze lowered when guilt flared through her at the thought of rejecting the thief’s attempts to try and comfort her.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, holding it for a second or two and then exhaling, tentatively letting herself relax against him. She placed her left hand over his heart, hesitantly moving her body to rest more against his side, comforted by the thrum of energy under her fingertips that proved he was alive and safe and had his heart beating strongly in his chest.

She wasn’t going to lose him.

Robin ran his fingers through Regina’s hair, gently combing through knots and tangles whilst he moved his other hand to her waist to keep her close to him.

“Get some more sleep,” Robin whispered, pressing his lips to the crown of her head before closing his eyes, letting himself relax and sincerely hoping Regina could do the same.

…

Robin awoke – just as the sky was beginning to lighten – to Regina practically lying on top of him. One of her legs was slung over his, her head lay on his chest, a hand over his heart, her bare skin heating his entire left side…

Suddenly, Robin understood why the whole ‘no staying the night’ rule was a good idea; it was hard enough to leave a warm bed, but to leave Regina’s embrace… It was something else entirely.

For a few moments – well, it wasn’t as if Regina would know – he just trailed faint, leisurely patterns over her side where his right hand rested just above her waist, and the other hand that was on her hip gripped just that little bit tighter.

When he had finally worked up the strength to leave her, at the first shift of Robin trying to extract himself, Regina paused him in his efforts. As she slid the hand resting over his heart to press down on his shoulder, and the leg resting on top of his tangled between them as she let out a grumble of displeasure, Robin couldn’t help but chuckle as the words _“I’m not a cuddler”_ came back to him.

“Regina…” Robin tried. “Regina, I need to go. It’s very nearly dawn.”

“Could you stay?” Regina asked, her voice quiet and slurred with sleep. “Jus’ this once?”

Robin smiled fondly. “Of course.”

She shifted on top of him again, letting out a sigh, and Robin wrapped his arms around her tighter, one around her shoulders and one clutching around her waist. He couldn’t help but smile as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

He could get used to this.

…

Regina’s eyes fluttered open. The first thing she noticed was that it was daylight, and she was not alone in her bed.

Her initial irritation at the thief not having left before sunrise – as per their agreement – faded away as she recollected her nightmare, Robin’s comfort, asking him to stay…

It seemed like a good idea at the time; him leaving would have necessitated in giving up her comfy position and no doubt the rest of her sleep. But lying in his embrace, feeling safer and more cared for than she could remember, the idea seemed a lot less than ‘good’ now.

As Regina stayed still, trying to decide on a way to leave the warmth and comfort Robin provided, the man himself stirred, pulling the woman next to him even closer.

Clearing her throat, Regina sighed the thief’s name in what was intended to be a warning, in the hopes of the outlaw finding it easier to part than she did, because this was a whole new brand of torture. Regina didn’t know what she was thinking asking him to stay until the morning. She was the Evil Queen; she wanted a partner to satisfy those sexual urges, not a partner to wake up to in the mornings after. And whilst Robin had become somewhat more than just a good lay, that did not excuse this show of intimacy and _cuddles._

From the way she tensed against him, Robin knew the directions the Queen’s thoughts were taking her, and he refused to let her interrupt this one peaceful moment with her musings on how she didn’t _need_ anyone…

“One minute,” he started, eyes still closed. “Just give us one minute, Regina. Forget about everything else; the rules, the reasons why this isn’t a good idea... Just for one minute.”

An internal war raged within Regina. She knew she needed to put an end to this, before it became something else to add to the _things-I-probably-shouldn’t-have-done-but-fuck-it-anyway_ list that Regina had been building so quickly since the moment this damn thief entered her life. But it was _nice._ It was so nice to just _be_ with someone, with Robin.

She supposed she could give him one minute. _Just_ one minute.

“Sixty seconds,” Regina resigned. “That’s it.”

Robin’s embrace tightened and she could feel a wave of something wash through her as Robin pressed his lips to her forehead.

She counted, of course she did, and with each passing number the urge to hold onto him tighter and ask for another minute grew. But if she didn’t stop this now then she would never be able to.

So, as expected, it was Regina who pulled away first, leaving the feeling of comfort and contentment behind as she prepared for the day ahead.

But if she had stayed in her thief’s embrace for just a few moments after she had passed ‘sixty’…

Well, nobody would ever know.

 


	17. Chapter 17

“Ok, what is this one?” Robin asked, staring down as yet another plate of food that looked completely foreign to him materialised out of purple smoke.

“Lasagne,” Regina answered, removing the previous plate of grilled cheese – not a favourite – and placing it alongside the half eaten burger at the end of the table.

They’d come into the smaller kitchen, Regina practically dragging the thief by the sleeve when he doubted the foods of Storybrooke tasted as good as the Queen said they did. She’d shoved him towards the table in front of the work stations, had told him to ‘sit down while she proved him wrong’.

Four dishes later, and Robin had to admit; they were mostly delicious. And as he looked down at the layered main in front of him – that smelled absolutely divine – he wondered if he was going to find this even better than the burger he still wanted to finish.

“Just as a little warning,” Regina started, “If you don’t like this, we’re over.”

Robin had to do a double take to find the mischief hidden within her serious expression.

He chuckled. “Noted.”

Robin cut off a forkful, preparing to put on the best performance of his life if it was not as nice as it smelled. He’d be damned if a mere plate of food ruined his relationship with Regina.

Though the moment his palette tasted this lasagne, his taste buds ignited with flavour, and he couldn’t help but let out a moan. “This is…”

“My signature dish,” Regina completed for him with a smug smile.

 _Ah. That explained it_. Of course this meal was going to be as exquisite as the woman who made it.

“It’s delicious,” Robin complimented, putting another forkful in his mouth, then another. He only stopped when-

“If you carry on you won’t have room for dessert.”

“Dessert?” he inquired around a mouthful of food.

“Yes, dessert.” Regina waved her hand over the table, and another dish appeared, his treasured lasagne moving away from him as this pale, triangular slice of something took its place.

“What’s this?”

“Cheesecake.”

Robin frowned, tilting his head and observing the plate before him with suspicion. “Cheese… in a cake?”

Regina chuckled, handing him a new fork and assuring; “trust me.”

Still rather sceptical – but willing to place his faith in his Queen – he placed a small bite in his mouth and chewed. His frown returned when he appeared to be deciding if he liked the taste of this one.

“It doesn’t taste like cheese,” he ended up declaring, not entirely sure if that was a good or bad thing.

“It’s a different type of cheese,” Regina responded, taking a look at Robin’s face and chuckling. “I’m assuming this one is not a favourite?”

Robin pondered a moment, before scrunching his face and pushing it to the side, “no.”

Regina pulled the plate back into the middle, stealing the fork from Robin’s hand and putting a scoopful into her mouth, her explanation a mere; “I’ve missed cheesecake.”

Sticking his tongue out in a childish manner, Robin took the fork back, looking at Regina expectantly, awaiting whatever she’d magic up next.

He was answered with four spherical pastries on a plate, and a smug smile.

“And these are…?”

“Profiteroles,” Regina answered, before she frowned at the plate and waved her hand, creating a small bowl of melted chocolate at the side.

She missed his slow blink to look up at her, his attention completely distracted from whatever words she was saying as his mind wandered back to when the chocolate was not in a bowl but on her _…_

“Robin, are you even listening?”

He didn’t even try to lie; “no.”

The Queen frowned, looking to the chocolate then back to the outlaw as she took in the hungry gaze that was focused on her and not food. She rolled her eyes with a smile and a small shake of her head, _typical Robin,_ “just shut up and eat.”

He looked mildly affronted; “I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to.”

With a huff, Robin looked back down to the food, leaving his fork on the table and picking up one of the pastries between his thumb and forefinger, tilting it after he dipped it in the chocolate to ensure he didn’t leave a trail over the wooden table.

The moment he bit into it he closed his eyes and let out a satisfied moan; _this was better than some damn cheese in a cake._

Regina cleared her throat before prompting; “better?”

He _hmm’d_ before declaring; “much.”

The sensation of something stroking over his chin startled him a little, and he opened his eyes to find Regina leaning over the table and swiping her thumb over the skin under his lower lip, taking note of his confused expression and explaining; “You have chocolate around your mouth.”

Robin smirked. “And you’re cleaning this with your thumb and not your tongue because…?”

Instead of answering, Regina put the chocolate covered digit in her mouth, her gaze turning mischievous as she took note of his intense stare trailing over her. Once she had cleaned all the stickiness away and rubbed her thumb along the side of her pointer finger to remove the moisture there, she raised a brow in a silent challenge for him to say anything.

“You’re evil,” he mumbled, and she responded by tilting her chin up and giving a bright, cheesy grin, looking rather proud of herself.

Robin chuckled, starting to raise the half eaten profiterole to his mouth, but then changing his mind and holding it out in front of Regina.

“I’m good,” she dismissed, though his stubbornness had him leaning slightly towards her in a silent insistence.

With a roll of her eyes she moved forward, and the moment she was within reach Robin lifted the dessert and swiped the edge of her nose with it, leaving a trail of cream behind.

Her jaw dropped in mild shock before she scoffed, her gaze falling to the table for something to throw at him.

She had just started to reach towards the discarded food at end of the table before the door opened and a rather breathless guard walked in.

“Your majesty, there’s…” he trailed off when he took note of the usually pristine Queen with her hair completely down and dessert on her nose.

It took a moment for Regina to remember the outlaw’s sudden desire to paint her with cream, but when she did, her eyes widened and she turned her face away to try and wipe her skin clean.

She turned back to the guard with a glare, raising a brow and appearing wholly indifferent as she inquired; “yes?”

The guard looked between the couple sat at the table before attempting to resume his professionalism and declaring; “the Prince and Princess want to see you in the general council chamber.”

Regina and Robin looked at each other with long suffering glares. _Typical._

Turning back to the guard – who, once again, looked one moment away from sniggering – Regina ordered; “Tell them I’ll be right there.”

With a sigh, she picked up her skirts and stood, stepping over the wooden bench and starting towards the door, looking confused at the guard who hadn’t made any inclination to move whatsoever.

“You too…” the man paused as he tried to work out how to address the outlaw that was clearly a little more than that to the Queen, before settling on; “sir.”

Robin looked at Regina then stuck out his lower lip in his facial equivalent of a shrug, standing, grabbing the half eaten burger and making his way towards her.

Before the couple left, the Queen sent a glare to the man awaiting them to pass, a silent ‘ _say anything and I’ll murder you’_ to which he responded with a nod in acknowledgement.

By the time Regina had got to the door, Robin was already holding it open for her, letting her pass and letting the guard put his foot out to stop it closing on him.

When they were a few steps ahead, Robin lowered his voice to tease; “see? _He_ calls me ‘sir’.”

Regina rolled her eyes.

“You’re welcome to go and seduce him,” she quipped, starting to gather and twist her hair into something a little more suitable for a Queen in a council meeting. Robin opened his mouth to deliver a retort, but before any words could fall from his mouth Regina added; “shut up or I’m going to start calling you ‘ogre’.”

They missed the guard’s quiet snigger from behind them as he started walking away.

…

Just before they entered the council chamber, Regina had stopped to wipe crumbs off of the front of Robin’s cream shirt, and Robin had tilted up Regina’s chin so he could wipe away a tiny spot of cream that she had missed on the underside of her nose.

They were still smiling about it when they walked in, though their good moods quickly sobered when they took note of the sombre expressions of Snow, Charming and all the Merry Men who were gathered around the table.

Regina glanced over the new company, he eyes catching George’s for a second before he looked away from her.

The Queen was quick to ask; “What’s going on?”

Charming was the one who spoke up. “We have a plan.”

Regina folded her arms and waited for him to continue.

“We need to know what Zelena is planning; so far we have nothing except that she’s coming after our child,” he began. “We’re sending out a search party, to scour the grounds for Zelena and report back with whatever they find at her hideout.”

Regina’s incredulous stare switched back and forth between Charming and his wife, before she blinked and delivered a low; “are you serious?”

The couple looked at each other then turned their gaze back to the Queen, perplexed at her reaction.

When it appeared they did not understand why their idea was _completely ridiculous_ Regina stated; “You’re going to send an army to try and attack the Wicked Witch of the West when you know damn well that none of them are likely to return?”

“They’re not going to fight her,” Snow assured; “just to check around her house.”

“ _Oh_ , and you think she’s just going to open the door and let them in?”

“No, that’s why the Merry Men are going,” Charming explained; “They know how to enter an establishment and look around without being caught.”

Regina’s jaw tightened, her hands clenching into fists as she turned to look at Robin. “Did you know about this?”

“I did not,” Robin answered with a frown, looking to his men before noting Regina still glaring at him and adding; “trust me, milady, I did not know.”

She turned back to the Prince and Princess with a short, sharp; “no.”

“Regina-” Snow started, though she was soon interrupted.

“Snow, you are worried about your child, I understand that, but that does not excuse sending out a group of men to their deaths in the vague chance of getting a step ahead of Zelena.”

The princess looked to her husband, who put a comforting hand over hers. “We’ll do anything to protect our child.”

“ _You’re_ not doing anything; you’re sending out men with no military training to find a powerful sorceress’ lair, scout around and expect them to return unscathed.” Regina disdainfully summarised, before calming a little and continuing; “Rumple is the most powerful person in the Enchanted Forest, and she has him under her control with the dagger. Then it’s yours truly, and she put me in a coma for six days. _These_ are men with pointy sticks, they don’t stand a chance.”

Little John stepped forward and spoke up; “I don’t think you understand that we are capable of defending ourselves, your majesty.”

“And I don’t think you understand that I could snap every one of your necks with a mere wave of my hand. As could Zelena. The only difference between her and I? I am trying not to.” Regina countered, before snapping; “Don’t patronise me… I’m trying to save your lives.”

Of course, John decided to ignore the Queen’s warning and declared; “We’ll gladly aid the Kingdom in any way we can.”

“You’re not doing this for the Kingdom; you’re doing this for Snow and Charming.” Regina scoffed, and when the men remained firm, she knowingly asked; “If I was the one suggesting this, would you be so enthusiastic about helping?”

The silence was an answer in itself.

“Regina-”

“No.” The Queen interrupted whatever Snow was about to say, turning to face the royals and pointing a finger in their direction, her voice becoming harsher when she declared; “They’re trying to help you because they want your respect, because you’re _heroes_ and your opinion is valued. People will do _anything_ for their treasured Charmings; you have no idea how dangerous you are to other people.”

David scoffed, retorting with a harsh; “Says the woman who slaughtered villages at a time.”

“I know exactly what I’m capable of,” she growled, a hand hitting the table as she leaned towards him. “You two have such a hero complex you are completely blind to it.”

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Snow insisted, holding her hands out in a useless attempt to placate the Queen’s building wrath.

“Then call off all this… nonsense.”

There was a pause before Charming attempted to compromise. “What if they just go and find her hideout? We can decide what to do from there.”

Regina’s gaze rose to the ceiling as she rolled her eyes, feeling as if she was back to where she started. “If anyone enters her territory she will murder them on site.”

“You don’t know that,” Charming dismissed, his irritability getting the better of him.

“Of course I do!” She snapped in frustration. “She’s territorial; she’ll kill whoever threatens to take away something that belongs to her.”

The Prince rolled his eyes, sniping; “And how would you know that?”

“Because she’s a Mills!” Regina exclaimed, trying – and failing – to keep her anger under control. “She’s a psychotic mass murderer; it runs in the family.”

The room fell silent for a few short moments, the Merry Men glancing between each other, Robin watching Regina, and Regina staring down the Charmings.

“Listen to me,” the Queen started, her voice somewhat calmer and yet dangerously low. “If you send those men anywhere near Zelena, they will not return.”

“We have to do _something,_ ” Charming declared, before opening old wounds when he stated; “You’d do the same if Henry was in danger.”

“Don’t-” Regina choked, closing her eyes for a moment before she fixed her gaze on the polished wood of the table in front of her, digging her fingernails into the palm of her hands.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Snow start to reach out towards her, but then the princess hesitated and lowered her hand to rest on the table.

They _were_ right; if there was a threat against Henry she’d destroy the entire Kingdom – herself included – to keep him safe. But he wasn’t here. There was no motherly love to blind her to consequences; there was just her – the Queen – and she had to do right by her people. For once.

She took a few calming breaths, consciously trying to relax some of the tension that had been building since the moment she had stepped into the room. Her mind whirred for something to appease the Charmings and yet did not involve throwing anyone into certain death. And came up with nothing.

Robin – who had apparently been trying to come up with the same solution – stepped forward and placed a subtle hand on Regina’s back. “May I suggest merely looking for places the witch _could_ be? And not investigating?”

She turned to look at him, working out a way to keep the thief as far away from her half-sister as possible. To say she was still worried would be an understatement, though a light scouting mission sounded a lot less dangerous than breaking into Zelena’s home.

With a sigh, the Queen waved a hand over the table and a map of the Kingdom and its forests materialised through a sheet of purple smoke.

“ _Just_ a scouting mission,” she firmly declared before laying out the terms. “You are to scour the forests. Any areas that appear changed or different to what’s on the map, you mark them and then _walk away_. You are not to delve further, you are not to engage Zelena in _any_ way. And you’re going to need some weapons just in case.”

“We’ll be fine with bows and arrows,” Will Stutely said, speaking up for the first time since he had entered the council chamber.

Regina scoffed, before turning to him. “No.”

“We don’t use magic, your majesty,” he insisted, and Regina fought the urge to bring up that it was _magic_ that was the reason he was still alive and breathing in the first place.

“Fine, I’ll go with you,” she compromised.

Robin spoke up from her left; “After last time, I’d prefer you didn’t.”

“Tough; you’re not going out unarmed and I can take care of myself.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Robin assured, “but what if something happens at the castle while you’re away and no-one is there to defend it?”

Regina glared at him, knowing damn well he was only finding excuses for her to stay in the castle for the same reason she was trying to find ones for him.

Though she loathed admitting it but he did have a point. Regardless, she still wasn’t going to allow Robin and his men to go on a mission without _anything_ to defend them.

“I’m sure the Charmings’ _heroism_ will save the day,” she sniped, her glare flitting to the royal couple before returning to Robin, intending on making plans to go with him.

“You’re not going,” he declared, his tone only carrying _some_ of the hardness in his eyes.

“Without any protection; neither are you,” she countered, just as stern.

Robin sighed, before bargaining; “If we are in danger, you can come and rescue us.”

“I have no possible way of knowing when you are in danger, _thief_ ,” she snapped, and Robin bristled at his old moniker being used without the warmth it had gained over the past month. “I’m not leaving that up to chance.”

“Well, then, you’ll just have to trust us,” the thief retorted, before adding a petty; “ _your majesty_.”

“It’s not you I don’t trust.”

The room fell silent once more, the battle of wills still ongoing and no clear indication of who would finish victorious.

Regina spent a moment attempting to find an arrangement that would placate the anti-magic Merry Men and yet still give them somewhat of an extra edge so they weren’t easy targets.

“I’ll stay here and let you all leave on one condition; that you let me do all I can here to help,” she started with a resigned sigh. “I can enchant your bows and arrows, I can strengthen your clothing, I can-”

“Magic always has a price,” Snow warned.

“I’m using the spells; I’m paying it,” she protested. “Besides, for something like this the price will be practically nothing; I can give up a few acres of my land if it means their safe return.”

The Prince and Princess looked a little affronted at the insinuation that they didn’t feel the same.

Regina let out a weary huff, before asking; “When were you planning on sending them?”

The royal couple looked between each other before responding in tandem; “tomorrow morning,”

Regina scoffed. Of _course_ they’d organise it so they’d have little time to prepare. _Typical_.

Not seeing any other important reason for her to stay with the Charmings and feeling herself becoming agitated once more, Regina decided to leave and work out how she could work her magic on saving people instead of hurling things at their monarchs. She could find out the finer details of the mission later.

Before she left though, Regina had to clear up one thing.

She turned back to the Charmings, meeting their gazes head on and declaring; “If there are any casualties… It’s your responsibility. You’re going to have to deal with that.”

A moment later, the doors slammed shut behind her.

…

It had taken a brisk walk around the castle – about double the distance between the council chamber and her room – before Regina was calm enough to think of the Charmings and not want to repeatedly punch them in the face.

What had possessed them to go ahead with something like this? If it wasn’t for Regina, Robin and his men would be marching to their deaths tomorrow. She still wasn’t entirely sure they weren’t. But at least now there was a considerably smaller chance of everyone being killed.

She may have been a little harsh on the Charmings – which was nothing more than they deserved anyway – but with her nightmare from a couple of nights ago still fresh in her mind, the fear of losing Robin was still there. Perhaps it wasn’t her subconscious punishing her as she had originally thought; perhaps it was warning her…

Or perhaps she was far too invested and was letting her emotions get the better of her.

With a frustrated sigh, Regina ran her hands over her hair, pausing her steps to close her eyes and take a deep breath.

_Get a grip, Regina._

Squaring her jaw, Regina straightened her spine and started to make her way towards the armoury, pushing everything to the side of her mind as she focused on what the Merry Men could take with them on their journey. Strengthened bows, magical arrows, enchanted maps…

By the time she had reached the armoury’s heavy, wooden doors, her mind had travelled back to Zelena again, flashing back to bright lights, searing pain and injuries that had taken a while to heal…

 _Who was she kidding?_ The Merry Men had no chance if they were to be caught; they needed a complete barrier against magic, not some slightly enhanced weaponry.

There was nothing that could completely block magic – nothing she could procure in the Enchanted Forest anyway – although… using blood magic she could defend them from her bloodline. Of course that would mean any future threats to turn them into garden furniture would be void if they wore whatever clothing she protected, but they’d be safe from her sister. _Win some, lose some…_ she mused, with a small, wry smile.

Materialising her heavy spellbook into her hands – the one with a little of _everything_ in it – she set it down on the table in the middle of the room, her eyes glancing from the left wall to the right, taking in the armour, swords, axes, shields, canons and everything else the knights would use in a battle for their Kingdom. All of it useless against a witch.

Regina looked down and turned the pages until she reached the blood magic part of her book. Looking over the ingredients needed to form a protection spell, she smiled when she noted she was either in possession of them, or she knew where to get them.

She was about to send for whatever clothing the Merry Men would be wearing on their trip, when the door opened and a man hidden behind said clothing entered. A head poked around the tower of shirts in their grasp.

He sighed in relief when he saw the Queen, walking over as he muttered; “of course you had to be in the furthest bloody room away from mine.”

Regina just had time to snatch her book away before it became lost under a sea of garments as they were dumped on the table.

She looked at George with her brows raised, and it only took a second for him to reply; “thought I’d save you the trouble of collecting our clothes, not entirely sure you’d want to be hunting through the Merry Men’s wardrobes.”

He had a point.

Regina smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

It was quiet for a moment before Regina asked the question that refused to leave her alone; “How long did you know you were going on this quest for them?”

George looked pensive for a few seconds, as if debating on what to say, but he wound up confessing; “they mentioned it yesterday evening, but they didn’t give us details until this morning.”

“ _Yesterday_?” Regina asked, her voice rising a little in tone. “But they’re Robin’s men, don’t you think he should have been consulted first?”

“They did send someone to fetch him last night, your majesty,” George started. “But he was uh… _busy,_ doing… you.”

Regina felt a blush tinge her cheeks as she averted her gaze, “that doesn’t give them the right to just go ahead anyway.”

“I know,” George conceded, before adding a chirpy; “but after the reprimanding you gave them, I don’t think they’re likely to do something like this again.”

She couldn’t stop the harsh, biting; “Good.”

George opened his mouth as if to say something, but then closed it again, pursing his lips and looking back towards the clothing in front of him.

He was about to speak again when Regina asked; “How long are you going for?”

“Two weeks,” he answered. “It should allow for a large area of forest to be covered.”

“That’s quite a while,” Regina mused, her brows drawing together in a frown.

Taking note of the Queen’s expression, George quietly stated; “You’re scared.”

“I’m not scared,” she protested. “I just… I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

“Things will be alright,” he assured as he rested a hand on the Queen’s cape covered shoulder. “Us Merry Men have been in quite a few dangerous situations, let me tell you.”

Regina chuckled. “I don’t doubt that.”

“We’ve managed just fine though. We’re survivors.” With a small smile he nudged her shoulder and added; “just like yourself.”

Turning her face, Regina offered George a grateful smile, feeling – at least a little bit – more at ease.

Of course that was when he joked; “But if I do end up in a coma you have to come and see me, right? You can’t let Much draw on my face.”

She couldn’t help her small, humouring chuckle. “Of course.”

“And I’m expecting a gift with each visit,” he declared with a serious nod of his head.

“I only got one bouquet from you,” Regina pointed out. “Did you only visit me the one time?”

He brushed off her teasing with a heartfelt; “well, you can’t blame me for not wanting to see you hurt, Regina.”

The Queen lowered her head, a mixture of both affection and guilt creeping up inside her. She hadn’t expect anyone to be nearly as affected by her illness as they had been; she’d thought Snow would throw a little worry fit, but then soon get over it. But having both the princess _and_ her husband show concern, in addition to Granny and Robin and his son and George… It had her somewhat baffled.

“This is where you say ‘ _I don’t want you to get hurt either, George’,_ ” he stated, pulling Regina out of her thoughts as his voice raised to an unnatural pitch in his attempt to impersonate her.

“ _I don’t want you to get hurt either, George_ ,” she retorted, imitating his mocking impression of her.

The man chuckled and grinned, before declaring; “I’ll be back to crack jokes and innuendos about you and Robin as soon as I come back.”

“Can’t wait.” Regina deadpanned, before smirking and turning back to her work, reading through the spells she was about to cast.

The quiet only lasted a few moments before the Queen huffed. “This isn’t enough; I should be going with you.”

“This is more than we’ve ever had, we’ll be fine,” George started, before adding; “And besides, you only got over Zelena’s curse a few days ago.”

“Curse?” they heard from the doorway, and when they both turned, it was to see Robin stood there, his expression a mixture of worry and annoyance.

“Robin…” Regina started, but she was cut off by the outlaw.

“What curse, Regina?”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” George announced, grimacing as he looked between the couple staring at each other.

Regina turned to glare at him – _how dare he leave her with an irate Robin Hood?_ – but he placed his hands on her shoulders, leaned in to whisper a final ‘ _we’ll be okay’_ and then pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. Her anger fading at the comforting squeeze he gave before leaving.

Her gaze met Robin’s for a few seconds before she looked back down at the clothing in front of her.

Robin cleared his throat.

“Regina…”

“It’s nothing,” she dismissed.

Though Robin obviously disagreed, stalking forwards until he was a few steps away from her and declaring; “a curse is not ‘nothing’, Regina.”

“It wasn’t an actual curse; it was just the easiest way to explain it.”

“That wasn’t how you explained it to me.”

With a sigh she turned back to face him, “you were already worried. If I had told you that I was feeling the effects of a curse I doubt you would have even let me out of your sight.”

“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Robin protested.

“I was fine.”

“You went to fight the Wicked Witch without any backup, Regina,” he retorted.

“And what are you doing tomorrow?” she countered.

“I have my men.”

“My magic is worth all of them put together!” Regina snapped, before looking at Robin and deflating at the forlorn expression on his face.

“I see,” he muttered, slowly nodding and looking down at the table.

“No, Robin… I didn’t mean it like that,” she assured, taking a step towards him. “Magic is so powerful, and Zelena, she’s… strong. I know you want to think that you can beat all the odds, but to a sorcerer, those without magic are just… tiny and dispensable.”

“That’s how you see us?” Robin asked, the unspoken ‘that’s how you see _me_?’ tagged onto the end.

“No…” Regina swore in a heartbeat, before she averted her gaze and admitted; “I just know how easy it is to end lives.”

“And yet you went to Zelena anyway?” Robin prompted, causing Regina’s irritation to flare again. “Did you know what she would do to you?”

“I’m no stranger to pain, Robin. I’ve had much worse,” Regina assured, a little harsher than intended.

“Well you should have told me how much you were hurting.”

“I didn’t tell you because it was nothing to worry about.”

“You told George,” he pointed out.

“George is a friend.”

Robin couldn’t stop the slight hurt leaking into his tone as he asked; “And I’m not?”

“We sleep together,” Regina explained, taking a step back to put a little more distance between them. The terms of their ‘relationship’ were already becoming so unclear; it was difficult to know where they stood at the best of times. “If we start _talking_ to each other then we’re just going to be blurring even more lines.”

“Screw labels, Regina,” Robin declared as he took the same step forward, apparently not worried in the slightest about Regina’s concerns. “I want to know what troubles you.”

Regina scoffed, “no, you really don’t…”

“I do,” he protested, his tone honest and heartfelt.

Regina’s response was a wry; “believe me, you don’t have the time.”

Taking another step towards her and gently cupping her elbow, Robin softly declared; “I’ll make time.”

This was a bad idea, a very _very_ bad idea, but Regina couldn’t help but feel her defences falter a little.

“Is this some kind of payback?” Regina asked, her voice quiet.

“Payback?” Robin questioned with a frown, “For what?”

“I know you were worried when I fought with Zelena-”

“You were at death’s door for a time, Regina,” Robin interrupted. “And whilst I would love to do the same thing to her as she did to you, I’m merely trying to make sure the people in this castle are safe; you’ve given us warmth, food, shelter… it’s the least I could do.”

Regina shook her head, frowning as she tried to come up with the words to explain what she actually meant; because she did not mean to ask if he was getting revenge on _Zelena._

Robin noticed her frown and turned to face her. “What?”

“You were worried about me,” she stated, then swallowed. “Is this some kind of plan to make me worry about _you_?”

_Because if it was… it was working. Very well._

“Wait, you think that this is me getting payback on _you?_ No!” Robin protested, “I would never do that to you. I’m not the kind of person to make you upset just because _I_ was.”

When Regina didn’t look at him, he hooked a finger under her chin and made her.

“I didn’t mean to make you worried, Regina,” Robin stated, before his eyes lit up slightly; “wait… you’re actually _admitting_ – out loud – that you’re worried about me, your majesty?”

“I’m not worried,” Regina protested, though with hardly any bite the protest was weak and neither of them believed it. She continued, nevertheless; “I’m just… slightly concerned.”

“That’s the same thing,” Robin chuckled, before stepping behind her and placing his hands on her hips, resting his chin on her shoulder. When Regina turned her head into him, he pursed his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to the corner of her jaw, assuring her; “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.”

She hummed, her hands coming to rest over his before she sighed and leaned into him. The realisation that she would be without the thief’s embrace for two weeks had her interlocking their fingers and bringing his arms around to her front.

Robin buried his nose in Regina’s hair, inhaling and closing his eyes as he held on to her even tighter, enjoying a rare moment’s peace before life restarted.

They could allow for just a minute.

…

Their one minute may have turned into two, but it wasn’t as if either of them were keeping track.

Though soon after, Robin had to tear himself away to go and see his son, and Regina had to focus her attention on her magic and not her thief.

So they parted, a goodbye on the tip of Robin’s tongue – in case he didn’t see her again before he left – that was quickly erased by her mouth on his until she found the strength to usher him out the door so he couldn’t say anything else.

His time with Roland hadn’t been particularly active; his son had refused to move from his lap until tiredness got the better of him and he was pulled into the world of dreams. And Robin hadn’t found the strength to let go of his boy until the sun had started to set.

So it was when Roland went to bed – when he was snuggled with his monkey and tucked under his sheets – that Robin made his way to Regina’s chambers.

He got distracted with the sky on the way there, had caught sight of it through one of the large windows on the West side of the castle. With the warm air, the melody of the birds’ song and the beautiful reds and oranges of a perfect sunset setting the clouds alight, Robin couldn’t help the serene smile from gracing his lips. The sky brought a feeling of contentment, a feeling of comfort, as if it knew…

The admiration of the setting sun incited Robin’s appreciation for the other beautiful details of the castle. The artwork sporadically fixed to the walls, the symmetry of the tiled floor design, the chandeliers and torches that cast a warm glow across all the hallways… Of all the places he had seen, Robin had to admit; the castle certainly had the most pleasing aesthetic.

Once he reached Regina’s door, he gave into the urge to trace his fingers across the wooden carving, the flowers and lion emblem from the crest, and the leaves and vines that twisted with precious metal that glinted in the light. It suited Regina; delicate and fiery, complicated and beautiful, something he could stare at for hours…

Reminding himself that he had come to see the Queen and not marvel at her door, he slowly pushed it open – keeping quiet in case she did not wish to be disturbed – and once he had stepped into the room, his eyes scanned for his Regina.

She wasn’t on her bed, nor was she sat at her mirror, nor in front of her wardrobe…

He noted the chaise that was usually in the far right corner of her room was not there; instead it had been moved in front of the open doors leading to her balcony.

Regina was sat _there_ , a silhouette in front of the bright sky. She was slightly hunched over, intently working on something that he couldn’t see. Though his ears picked up a faint thud, and then another, before he saw the Queen sit straight.

He heard her sigh before her head dipped, but before Robin could walk over to her, she had removed her cape and had tossed it over the back of her chaise.

_Oh… Right…_

When she stood, her hands moving to her lower back to try and unfasten the ties on her corset, Robin was struck with the beauty of the scene in front of him. The dark silhouette of Regina’s figure under the wide archway, all of her soft, perfect curves that were surrounded by the light of the setting sun…

It took his breath away.

A fond smile graced his lips when Regina let out a frustrated huff and placed her hands on her hips. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who sometimes struggled with her corsets.

Robin softly cleared his throat. “Are you requiring assistance, your majesty?”

She turned her head to face him, returning her gaze to the sky when she realised it was Robin standing at her door and offering to undress her.

“If you don’t mind,” she conceded with a small smile.

“Not at all, milady,” Robin smirked, walking around the chaise to stand beside Regina, placing his hands on her hips to turn her away from him.

He started to untie the tangle that she managed to get her corset fastening into, using one hand to scoop the hair cascading down her back – and blocking his vision – to rest over her shoulder. His fingertips hooked into each criss-cross over her back to loosen the garment, his eyes watching the process before he quietly asked; “Are you ok?”

“I’m just tired,” she admitted on a sigh.

Robin smirked, letting the corset fall away from her and unable to resist a joking; “Is removing your clothing proving that much of a challenge, your majesty?”

Regina chuckled, feeling grateful for the outlaw’s humour, before she explained; “I laid into the Charmings at a council meeting, used _a lot_ of magic trying to provide everyone with the best edge they can have, and I went through the entire plan multiple times with ten of my most trusted knights… It’s been a long day.”

Robin frowned. “What plan with your knights?”

“You don’t think I’m sending you and your men without any military back-up, do you?”

With a smile, Robin ducked his head to press his lips to her right shoulder, starting to leave a trail of kisses towards the left one.

“Regina, we’ll be alright,” Robin spoke into her skin once he reached the top of her spine.

“I’ll believe that in two weeks when you all return.”

Robin couldn’t help but shake his head at Regina’s tenacity; that woman would argue until her last breath. Though he couldn’t help but admit her determination was one of the things that had drawn him to her the first day they met.

As Robin unfastened the three vertical buttons on the back of her skirt, he mused that it was her determination to help him and his men that had her in this tired state in the first place. 

“It isn’t your responsibility to look out for us, you know?” he reminded her, letting her skirt fall to the floor so she could kick it away.

“There’s been far too much death in this Kingdom, by my hand,” Regina stated. “The least I can do is try to balance that out a little.”

Robin felt a swell of pride. This marvellous woman had the courage to change and do better, had once used all her strength in her quest for revenge and was now using it to protect people… And it was he who she had allowed to be this close to her. He could press kisses to the top of her shoulder, he could trail his thumbs down the sides of her neck and ghost his fingers down the tip of her spine, he could draw out content sighs and quiet moans just by trailing his hands over the right places on the body of the stunning Regina Mills…

To whatever power that had decided to let this woman enter his life, Robin would eternally be in their debt. And to whatever being that ever tried to separate them, Robin would fight them until the end.

He wouldn’t lose her. And nor would she lose him.

“We’ll be fine,” he reassured once more when she started to relax under his touch.

She hummed as he removed one hand from her shoulder-blade to reach for the silk robe he could see laid out on the seat, before he moved his other hand to hold it out so she could slip her arms into the sleeves.

“You have a lot more hope than I do,” she mused as she slowly shrugged the garment up over her shoulders.

He turned her around, tying the sash at her front as he declared; “Well, you can use mine for the both of us.”

Regina watched him as he pulled on the loops of the bow to secure it, and when he looked up at her she saw the emotion in his gaze; honest, sincere, affectionate… Having had enough of dealing with her _own_ emotions lately, she avoided analysing it by closing her eyes, rising onto her toes and pressing her lips to his.

Their kiss started chaste enough, intending to be just a slight distraction from thinking, but then Regina remembered that the thief would be leaving soon, and her mouth opened under his in an effort to be even closer to him.

The calloused hands that had been used to soothe mere moments ago were now a little more firmer in their travelling, his thumbs tracing under the curve of her breasts before his touch moved and his fingers splayed to rest high on her ass.

Feeling slightly more energised that she had when the outlaw had first walked into the room, Regina grabbed the front of Robin’s shirt and turned, pushing him backwards until his knees hit the seat of her chaise. He couldn’t balance himself quickly enough to not topple back onto it, putting a pause on their kiss as his mouth tore away from hers.

With a small smile, she shifted onto the chair, her knees resting against the back before she seated herself atop his thighs, her small smile morphing into a seductive grin. Her hands trailed up his shoulders to rest either side of his neck as she leaned forwards and sealed her lips to his again, releasing a small moan when his hands trailed up her thighs.

Robin turned so he was leaning into the corner against the chaise’s armrest, pulling Regina with him as he reclined and buried his hand in her hair. His other arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her body close to his as he transformed their heated caresses into something more sweet and sensual, perfectly happy to just exchange languid kisses and caring touches in the time between then and when he had to get some sleep.

Regina had other ideas; taking his lower lip between her teeth as she slid a hand down the front of his chest, her fingertips snagging on the material as she reached the band of his trousers..

“Regina…” Robin started, intending to ask her to go easy or slow down or something to that effect.

But she hummed into his mouth, her touch trailing over where he was hardening against her, her free hand gripping his hair, and his words fell away to the back of his mind. Only brought back a moment later when she shifted her knee to press in between his thighs and her fingers flipped up the bottom of his shirt to tuck into his waistband.

“Wait, I don’t-” Robin started before his lips were caught with Regina’s again. His hand moved to rest over the one she intended to remove his trousers with, and he tilted his head so his mouth was parted from hers. “I don’t want…”

Regina paused, lifting her head so she could meet Robin’s eyes as she asked a breathless; “What?”

The hand over hers left to join the other tangled in the raven hair he was so fond of, his forehead resting against Regina’s as his eyes closed. The peaceful comfort of just having her with him, of just _existing_ with her in his arms was more soothing than anything else he had known. “I just want this.”

Her quiet breath of his name had him adding a quiet; “please.”

By giving in, Regina was – again – blurring those lines she was trying to define, but she chose not to dwell on it as she moved one of her legs to join the other precariously resting along the edge of the seat, her backside sliding down to rest between Robin’s thighs as his arm snaked around her waist and pulled her to lean against him.

She settled against his chest, one arm wrapping around herself to hold the hand he had on her side, her other hand resting over his heart as she lay her head on his shoulder, letting out a sigh.

“This isn’t becoming a habit, you know?” Regina stated, feeling that dangerous urge to throw caution to the wind and destroy their routine of sticking to opposite sides of the bed whenever they spent the night together.

“I know,” Robin whispered as he pressed a kiss to her hairline, raising his free hand to cradle Regina’s head against his shoulder, his thumb smoothing over the skin of her cheek whilst his fingers tangled in her hair. “I just want to hold you.”

The admission had Regina’s heart pounding, her head raising to look at Robin and feeling both relieved and disappointed when she noted his eyes were closed. The hand he had on her cheek guided her back down to his shoulder, and the one on her hip gently pushed so she was pressed even more against him.

Regina sighed. It would not do to dwell on whatever was happening here, especially not whilst the unexpected, unwanted and unprepared-for mission to find something regarding her sister had their emotional guards difficult to maintain. Everyone was just a little on edge, a little raw. It wasn’t going to mean anything in the next day or two.

And yet, the Queen had to admit that there was something calming about the outlaw’s embrace, something reassuring that softened her hard edges and had her melting into him. Her fingers traced patterns over his heart, idle doodles that lulled her as the bright, summer sky gradually darkened.

Feeling content, Regina relaxed into her thief, letting sleep overtake her as her eyes drifted closed…

When she awoke, she was in her bed.

And her thief was gone.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short version; not dead. Hi :D   
> Sorry I took so long with this but I needed a break from writing, and I’ve had a lot going on lately. Although I managed to get this done for OUATDay, so – over a bit of deliberation – I decided to post it. Because it’s a very special day and we should all share the feels!   
> A huge thanks to everyone who reads and sends me nice messages. You’re all wonderful people who should get yourself a slice of cake.  
> Mwah!

The first day without Robin, Regina busied herself in the library, combing through old books with nothing of value in them on autopilot as a way not to worry about the thief. The second was spent in the stables, sending away the staff and tending to the horses as a way to keep her mind occupied. The third she was back in the library again, reading yet more magical books and - for the first time since being back in her old castle - was able to concentrate without a single distraction.

It hadn't occurred to her how much time she actually spent with the thief until he wasn't there.

It wasn't even as if she had done anything productive while he had been gone. Yes, she had read a fair amount but she had nothing to show for it apart from a few paper cuts and a throbbing headache. _God, she needed to get it together._ And if the rather loud growl from below was any indication, her stomach agreed with her.

A magical shift in the air and a tingle down her right side had Regina sitting straight and completely still. It wasn’t a second later before Tinkerbell materialised in the chair beside her with a green shimmer. _Wonderful. Just what she needed._

Regina tried to hide the startled jump in her chair, masking it as merely shifting to look at the fairy instead of the knee-jerk response she had never really been able to shake since childhood. Once her brown eyes met her friend’s hazel ones, Regina’s glare served as an unspoken dare to antagonise her.

"You missed lunch again," Tink stated, apparently not paying heed to the Queen's warning as she folded her arms and returned the glare.

Regina was about to retort but her stomach growled again at the mere mention of food. _Traitor._

"I'll go down to the kitchens and get something later," Regina dismissed with a wave of her hand.

"Nope, you're going now."

Regina didn't get chance to respond before the fairy was out of her seat and pulling Regina out of hers.

"Tinkerbell, honestly, I'll go down later."

But Tink was having none of the Queen's protestations, linking their arms and refusing to allow Regina the chance to wriggle out before she turned and tugged them towards the door, starting a path down the corridor and leading towards the kitchen.

They were quiet for a short time, their footfalls becoming synchronised as Tink hummed a low tune before stopping and speaking up; "That's the second time you've missed lunch in the past three days, Regina."

"I'm aware."

"Are you ok? I know you're worried."

"I'm not worried…" Regina protested automatically. "I'm just concerned."

Tinkerbell chuckled. "You know they're the same thing, right?"

"I just meant I'm concerned for Roland," she admitted, even though she had resigned herself to there being more than that to it days ago. Tink stared at her as if she knew the same thing, and – unable to think of anything else to stop her from looking at her like _that –_ Regina stole her words from her thief; "He's already lost his mother, I'd hate for him to lose his father too."

Tink raised a brow and pursed her lips, turning to face Regina as she delivered a knowing; “So, it’s nothing to do with what's going on between you and Robin then?"

“I-” Regina started, before she realised she didn’t actually have anything witty with which to deflect the accusation.

Tink filled in the gap, declaring a confident; "I know you likehim."

Regina scoffed, trying to come up with something to distract the fairy with. “' _Like'_? Are we gossiping teens now, Tink?”

“Fine; is this to do with the fact that you love him?” Tink countered without missing a beat.

“ _Woah_ ,” Regina’s steps halted, her arm slipping from the fairy's grasp as her mind span. Her eyes grew wide and – to the Queen’s horror – slightly pleading as she warned; “Don’t go there, Tinkerbell.”

The fairy turned to face her friend as she shrugged and pointed out; “You said ‘like’ was too childish."

“That doesn’t mean you have to skip straight to… _that._ ” Regina grumbled, before mumbling with distaste; "I get enough of the _lovey-_ _dovey_ talk from Snow White."

Tink cocked her hip, folding her arms again and smugly smiling as she declared; “Regina, I know you care about him.”

“Tinkerbell…”

“ _Really_?” The fairy started, a frustrated frown etched into her features as her accent became a little more pronounced in her irritation. “After everything that’s happened are you honestly going to tell me that you don’t care for him? Even though you apparently _completely_ lost it in the council chamber at the mere _thought_ of him going near Zelena?”

 “I…” Regina started, intending to try and say something to appease Tink and get back to finding the foodher stomach was now craving. “I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Because you care about him?”

“ _Fine_ , yes; because I care about him,” Regina admitted in a harsh whisper. “Are you happy now?”

She didn’t need to ask; the beaming smile threatening to break Tink’s cheeks answered before the enthusiastic nod that freed strands of hair from the fairy’s bun.

With a disgusted scoff and a roll of her eyes, Regina linked arms with the fairy and forcibly continued their path towards the kitchen.

"Of course, if you tell anyone I said that," she started, "I'll turn you into a Christmas Tree topper."

…

The Queen's late lunch turned into a long afternoon, and it was past eight in the evening before Tink went back to Nova, and Regina made her way back to the library.

Though she never actually got there.

It was after about half her journey when she passed the dining hall and heard Snow's distinctly airy voice filter through the ajar doors; "it'll be ok, he'll be back soon."

Regina initially felt the urge to walk past, to just head back to her room and relax after her socialising with Tink for _hours_. But something drew her into the nearly empty dining hall.

It wasn't three steps in before she saw Snow, Charming and Friar Tuck hunched around a bench halfway into the room. It wasn't two steps more before she realised it was Roland in the centre of them.

Her once slow steps became quicker and surer as she made her way over to Robin's son. 

Regina didn’t even make it half way there before there was the patter of small feet and the young boy was in front of her, grasping the edge of her skirt and pulling the fabric to hide his face from view. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, and she raised her gaze to see Snow, Charming and Friar Tuck staring back at her with the same puzzled expression. When she looked back down, there were wide, innocent eyes staring back at her.

Regina gracefully bent down until she was level with the child, and it was then that the light caught the wet tracks on his cheeks along with the unshed tears in his red, puffy eyes.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong, Roland?” the Queen softly asked as she swiped away the tears with her thumbs.

Roland sniffled and rubbed his eyes with his fists, “can you save my papa?”

If the little boy’s tears hadn’t clenched and tugged at her heart, the way his voice cracked would have done so.

The maternal part of Regina instinctively lowered her voice and softened her edges, asking him; “why do you think your papa needs saving, dear?”

“Because I heard Thomas said that the Merry Men wouldn’t come back because they were stupid and went to go and fight a witch. He said they all dead.”

Regina shook her head, “Roland…”

“But you saved me.” Apparently the boy wasn’t listening to her; _a trait that must run in the family_. “When… when the monkeys tried to hurt me you saved me. And you saved Will when he was poorly with good magic. And you were going to help papa when a bad man hurt him. Can you save my papa now, majesty? Please?”

“Roland, listen to me. Your papa; he’s going to be ok. If there is anything I know about your dad, it’s that he can take care of himself.” Regina combed her fingers through the little boy’s hair, sweeping it out of his eyes. “Now, your father, his merry men and a few knights of the castle are not going to be going anywhere near this witch, okay? They’re just going to have a little look around the woods, that’s all; a long walk around the forest.”

“Really?” Roland sniffled.

Regina gave a comforting smile. “Really. I gave the orders myself. And did you know it’s against the law to go against the Queen’s word?”

The boy's eyes widened. "It is?"

Regina smiled. Growing up in a family of wanted outlaws probably didn't teach the boy much in the way of the legal rights and wrongs, so she confirmed; "it is indeed. And I told them not to go anywhere near the witch, okay?"

He nodded, sniffling again, “Okay.”

"There we are." Regina gently wiped away the tracks on his cheeks, then put a finger under his chin so the boy's gaze met hers, softly declaring; "no more tears."

Roland took the Queen's hand in both of his, bringing it to rest against his heart. "Thank you, majesty."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

There was a clearing of someone's throat from ahead of them, and Regina looked up to see the Charmings and Friar Tuck staring at the two of them with frowns on their faces.

Looking back to Roland and smiling with a playful roll of her eyes, Regina wrapped an arm around the back of his knees and scooped him up onto her hip. 

She walked towards the group, with the intention of questioning Friar Tuck about this man who upset Roland. With every step forward she remembered little Roland's angelic face covered in tears, and the trio looked warily between them at the sudden stormy look on the Queen's face.

“Who is 'Thomas'?” She asked, in a tone she had used before on the rulers who had assumed they could rule _her_.

The Friar took an unconscious step back. “He’s not one of ours, your majesty; he’s been delegated to cleaning duty along our corridor.”

“When you next see him you tell him to watch what comes out of his mouth, or at least who is around him when he opens it.” She inclined her head towards Roland after her order - who now had both arms wrapped around her neck and his face buried into her shoulder.

Friar Tuck looked at Roland questioningly, then his wary gaze turned to Regina. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s worried about his papa,” Regina explained, leaning her head to rest atop Roland’s.

“I’m sure he’s fine, sweetheart.” Snow assured, reaching out to lay a hand on his back, but Roland just snuggled further into Regina. The princess turned to her husband, musing; “It’s a pity we don’t have telephones here, they would sure come in handy in times like these.”

Charming turned back to the Queen. "Regina, could you not magic something up?"

"Magic like that doesn't grow on trees," she snapped, before grumbling; "and Zelena took a few of the things that could actually work like that when she turned this place into her personal B&B."

"What about the necklace that papa took?" Roland asked, his voice faint from where his face was buried in her neck.

" _Necklace_?" Regina repeated, smirking at the mental image of Robin wearing some of her elaborate jewellery. But then she realised what this 'necklace' was and her smile faded.

He wouldn’t? Would he?

It only took Regina a split second to realise; _he would._

Huffing and turning to Friar Tuck, she moved to hand Roland over to him, but the boy just tightened his grip around her and refused to be parted from his Queen. With a small smile, Regina stood straight again, raising her hand to smooth over Roland's brown curls.

“What’s wrong?” Snow inquired, starting to lift her arms to see if she can persuade the boy to go with her - though the whole group knew it was a fruitless effort.

“Nothing’s wrong," Regina assured, before explaining; "I just need to check something.”

“Where?” Friar Tuck asked, suspicion seeping into his voice as he looked from the Queen to his friend's son and then back to the Queen.

“My chambers.” Regina looked at Roland, one of his arms had moved from around her neck so he could put his thumb in his mouth. Regina’s gaze turned to Friar Tuck, her statement of “I won’t be long,” said with a hint of question, unwilling to take Roland away if Friar Tuck forbade it - though she'd have a few choice words if he did.

The small nod the Merry Man gave her brought a small, grateful smile onto her face. With a short nod in return, Regina turned on her heel and walked over to the doors, shifting Roland’s weight to one arm as she pulled on the handle, whispering soothing, insignificant things to the little boy as she left.

…

Partway through their journey to her chambers, Roland asked if he could walk - something Regina's tired arms were very grateful for - and the rest of the way there was spent with his little hand enclosed in hers.

When they arrived at the Queen's ornately carved doors, the little boy's eyes grew wide and his lips parted in awe. Then when Regina guided him into her room, his jaw fully dropped and his feet rooted to the floor.

Regina turned when her hand was suddenly left vacant.

"Roland, are you alright?"

His response was a whispered; "your room is _huge_."

With a chuckle Regina looked around the room that she had chosen for herself after returning with the Charmings and some other Storybrooke residents in tow. "Yes, I suppose it is."

Roland seemed to get over his shock rather quickly, moving around the room to admire the Queen's plush bedding, then her shiny floor, then her giant wardrobe… Never staying in one place long before he was off somewhere else. Regina could barely keep up, smiling at the young boy's energy, remembering when Henry was that age and running her ragged.

Her smile faded at the thought of her little prince. It had been a long time since she was chasing after him, trying to wipe away food from his cheeks, or get him in the bath, or letting him win a game of _escape the tickle monster…_

Such a very long time.

"Regina," Roland called, picking up an ornate, silver trinket box from her dresser and shaking it when he liked the tinkling rattle from inside, "what's in here?"

Regina's train of thought derailed as she took hurried steps towards him and held the box still in his hands. "That's jewellery and some other precious things of mine."

The boy removed his hands and placed them behind his back, looking to the ground and muttering, "sorry, majesty."

With a sigh and a small smile, Regina ruffled the mop of brown curls. "It's alright, Roland. We need this box anyway."

"We do?" He asked, peering up at her with a little excitement in his eyes.

Regina hummed in affirmative before placing the box back on her dressing table, lifting the engraved lid and gazing at its contents.

Roland couldn't resist the urge to look too, so he squirmed his way into the gap between Regina and the table and peered inside.

It took a second for the Queen to find what she was looking for, but when she did, she held it up with a triumphant smile.

The dark gem hung on plaited leather, gently swinging back and forth as Regina closed the lid on the small box.

"That's the necklace that papa took!" Roland declared, missing Regina's eyebrow raise and her slightly irritated _mm-hmmm._ "Do you have one too?"

"I do indeed," Regina stated, before the image of an upset Roland from a few minutes ago returned in her mind and an idea took form. She gave the pendant to Roland, wrapping his fingers around the stone before she revealed that it was a magic necklace.

The little boy's eyes widened. "I'm holding magic?"

Regina smiled, "Yes, you are. Now, do you want to help me?"

Roland's excitement bubbled over, and he started to bounce on the balls of his feet as he shouted an enthusiastic; " _Yes_!"

"I want you to close your eyes, and think of your papa," Regina started, kneeling down in front of him and holding his hand between her own. When he complied, Regina let a trickle of magic filter through her fingers and activate the stone, lighting up the black gem so it glowed a deep purple within Roland's fist. With a smile, Regina leaned towards the young boy and told him; "say 'hello'."

"Hello," Roland stated, though his confusion had the word sounding more like a question.

There was a small pause before Roland's eyes snapped open, wonder etched across all his features as the biggest grin Regina had ever seen appeared on the boy's face. "Papa?"

The boy's gaze excitedly searched the Queen's chambers, but she smiled and pointed to the pendant in his hand, and the boy looked at his hand in amazement. Regina grinned and stood, wincing as a loud, excited shout of " _Papa!_ " hurt her ears a short moment later.

It took all of two seconds for the young boy to start telling stories of what he had been doing whilst his father was away, talking so fast Regina was a moment away from reminding him to breathe. But the unbridled joy and happiness on his adorable, little face had her absolutely loathing the thought of interrupting him.

Pushing the silver box back into its place next to her mirror, Regina took Roland's free hand in her own and started leading them back into the dining hall where the Charmings and Friar Tuck were waiting for them.

…

Upon opening the door, Regina found three pairs of curious eyes fixed to her every move as she walked towards them, Roland still clinging onto her hand and chatting away.

The moment she was within earshot the questions started.

"What's Roland holding?"

"Who's he talking to?"

"Did you check what you needed to?"

Regina turned to face each of them in turn as she answered; "A magical amulet. Robin Hood. Yes, I did. Anything else?"

When there were no other questions, the Queen turned back to the boy at her side, scooping him up to sit on the clean table to the right of her and smiling as she ruffled his hair again.

"Regina, what is that thing?" Snow asked as she came to stand directly behind her.

"I told you; it's magical amulet," Regina repeated with a little bite, before taking note of Charming's glare and explaining; "the gem holds magical properties, Roland has one half, Robin has the other. When both parts are held it acts as a communication device."

"Is it dangerous?" the Friar asked, wariness seeping into his tone.

"Of course not," Regina assured. "I wouldn't let Roland have it if it was."

“Where was it?”

“In my room.”

“What was Robin doing in your room, Regina?” Snow asked with a knowing smirk and a tone that implied _everything_.

"Stealing that, obviously,” Regina quipped, not rising to the bait.

All of a sudden, Regina’s vision was hindered by a small hand clutching her amulet, and she looked to her right to see Roland and his big brown eyes staring at her, “papa wants to talk to you.”

Regina looked to the amulet and then back to Roland before taking the necklace in her hand and jumping right in with; “Steal anything from me again and I’ll have you beheaded. Understood?”

“Nice to hear from you too, your majesty,” he quipped, and Regina’s heart stuttered as she suddenly realised just how much she had missed the thief's voice.

Nevertheless, she managed to save face - releasing a frustrated sigh before inquiring; “What were you thinking?”

“Well, now if anything untoward happens I can call you for help,” Robin explained, as if it was common sense.

“I’m not going to be at your beck and call," Regina retorted. "It would be best for everyone if you just didn’t get yourself into danger in the first place."

“Ah, but I’m kind of attracted to it you see?” Robin drawled. Regina could see his flirty smirk in her mind and she cursed him for it, “it’s beginning to become somewhat of a problem.”

“Well I’m sure you can handle yourself; you’re a grown man now.” Her tone was meant to be patronising, but it came out slightly more suggestive than she would have liked. And she immediately regretted it when she heard his low chuckle.

“That I am… as I’m sure you recall.”

Oh she recalled, she recalled very well. Too well. Before the conversation headed into a direction not suitable for company, Regina attempted to wrangle the conversation back into decency. “Was that all?”

“That was all.”

She heard Robin's low, throaty chuckle and cursed him again. When he came back she was going to punish him. Thoroughly. Regina couldn’t quite decide if she would fuck him into the ground, or bury him in it; it would depend on what state he came back in.

If he even came back at all.

 _No_ ; he _would_ come back. He had to. He was Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves and a wanted outlaw. If he could evade her knights for years, he could evade whatever Zelena could throw at them. _Surely?_

"Regina? Are you still there?"

Blinking back into the present, Regina took a second before she assured; "Yeah. Yes, I am. Was there anything else?"

She heard an intake of breath and was suddenly a little nervous about what else he wanted to say. She hoped it was nothing _Robin,_ the somewhat mushy, slightly emotional, just-the-right-side-of-romantic talk that had her fighting to stay in control of herself. Especially whilst she had the Charmings breathing down her neck.

“I want you to keep the amulet," Robin declared, and Regina let out a little sigh of relief _. That, she could do._ "That way if we ever need help you will know straight away; there is no need for people to hurry around the castle searching for you.”

Regina looked to Roland, remembering the way his face lit up when he had heard his father's voice and frowning. “Your son-”

“-can have the amulet when he’s with you," Robin finished, before adding; "I’m sure he won’t mind spending a little time with the Queen.”

“Your men might.”

“They can be overprotective sometimes, especially Tuck – the designated baby sitter,” he admitted, and they both let out a little chuckle. “But I know you won’t let any harm come to him. And if anyone says otherwise let me talk to them on this thing.”

The determination in his voice made Regina pause; he trusted her with his son, and not just whilst he was out fishing at the edge of the castle grounds, but whilst he was goodness knows where and going to be away for eleven days. That was a rather big step.

Robin didn’t seem to notice the way he had moved Regina to silence, talking continually as if he could not get used to the idea of conversing with someone who wasn’t physically present; marvelling out loud at the benefits of long distance communication, though listing the drawbacks of not being able to read the visual cues of the other party such as the quirk of a brow or the roll of the eyes…

The Queen quickly put an end to his incessant mumblings; “Robin, you’re rambling.”

“So I am. Apologies, milady. It’s just this is rather new to me.”

“I know. Look, just…” Regina didn’t know what to say next; ‘Be careful’? ‘Come back safe’? They all sounded as if they would be said by a loved one. And Regina was many things, but not that. Though she knew the thought of not seeing him again scared her. Surely he wouldn’t be so stupid as to antagonise the witch. Then again, if he was stupid enough to involve himself with the Evil Queen… perhaps she should be worried.

“’Just…’ what? Milady?” Robin asked after she had gotten lost in her thoughts again.

“Just…" Regina started again, then pausing as she tried to work out what to say. She settled on; "don’t do anything stupid; you’re needed here.”

It was a fairly neutral response, not giving too much away or providing Snow with even more ammunition for the _girl talk_ she had been trying to get Regina to participate in lately. And yet she still knew that they’d read into it, especially at the flirty smile appearing on her face when Robin drawled; "As milady wishes."

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome, your majesty," Robin replied, sounding so overly prim that Regina wanted to slap the smirk no doubt gracing his lips off of his face. "Now then, I'm afraid I must leave you; my men and I are going to set up camp and they're absolutely hopeless without me."

Regina tried to very hard to mask the way her heart dropped at so little time spent talking with Robin. Though realising that he could call her any time – and her him – until he returned, Regina was able to manage a humoured; "I can believe that."

"We'll talk again soon?" Robin asked as if he knew her mind, and Regina smiled at the eager hopefulness in his tone.

Her smile grew as she declared; "of course."

"Well, I will wait with baited breath until then, your majesty."

"Oh shut up," Regina laughed, "normal people just say 'goodnight', you know?"

"How boring," he quipped.

With a roll of her eyes Regina relented. "Fine; until then."

"I look forward to it," Robin admitted. Then the stone's purple hue faded and Regina suddenly felt just a little more lonely.

"Regina?" Roland asked, eyes on the blackened gem as he tugged on her lace sleeve. "Regina, is papa gone now?"

Ruffling her hand through the boy’s irresistible curls, Regina gave him a small smile. "Just for now. You can talk to him again soon."

"Promise?"

"I promise. You can come and see me tomorrow, and we can try and talk to him then. Sound good?"

Roland's enthusiastic shout was coupled with a few bounces before he hopped off the table and ran in front of Friar. "Can I, Tuck? Can I? Please?"

The man looked warily between Robin's son and the Queen, clearly in some kind of internal debate as his gaze switched between the two. But Roland's wide eyes and pouty lower lip swayed the outcome towards the little boy's favour - as it always did.

"Alright, but you have to let me know where to find you," Tuck compromised.

Roland was quick to agree, repeating several emphatic promises of _'I will'_ before charging back to Regina and barrelling into her legs.

Regina couldn't help the grin that broke out onto her face, catching glimpses of Snow and Charming looking at her with joyful smiles with enough emotions in their eyes that she felt slightly nauseated.

Choosing to ignore them, Regina grasped Roland's arms from around her waist, intending to pull Roland back up onto her hip. But just as she grasped the little boy's hands, the Friar stepped forward and scooped him under his arm.

"Apologies, your majesty," he began. "But I'm afraid it's this little tyke's bedtime."

Roland's small frame immediately started squirming, until the Friar rearranged the boy into a fireman's hold over his shoulder.

"Say goodnight to the Queen, and the Prince and Princess."

Roland’s squirming stopped in defeat, recognising the authority in his guardian’s tone. "Goodnight, Prince and Princess. Goodnight, Regina."

There was a chorus of responding "goodnight"s and "sweet dreams"s, and as Friar Tuck walked away, Roland waved at the Queen from over his shoulder.

Then Regina was left with the Charmings.

She turned around, took one look at the way the Prince and Princess opened their mouths - presumably to make more unnecessary comments regarding the nature of her and Robin's relationship - and promptly turned around, placing one foot in front of the other at a hasty pace to get to the sanctuary of her chambers.

By the time she got there, the weight of so little sleep, a bit of stress and a lot of worrying caught up with her. It wasn't long after she arrived before she slipped between her luxurious bedsheets, sinking into her mattress and finally feeling calm enough to try and get some well needed rest.

…

Rest never came.

It was ridiculous. Regina felt as if she had been lying in bed for hours, and yet she had been unable to fall asleep for any longer than a few minutes at a time.

She had tossed and turned, feeling completely drained, and yet her thoughts had refused to quieten and let her have a moments' peace. It had surpassed the utterly frustrating stage and was heading into the _someone-just-knock-me-out_ stage.

The sky had been inky blue when deep sleep finally claimed her, though she was dragged into fitful dreams full of hurt and heartbreak, where Zelena made good on her threat to destroy those she cared about. Sweaty and tangled in sheets, Regina had awoken yet again, her heart pounding, breathing uneven and her hand outstretched towards the side of bed where Robin should have been lying.

The Queen closed her eyes and huffed. This wasn't her; Regina wasn't one to toss and turn for days on end. Especially not over a thief.

Except a voice in her head cried out that it was no longer that simple; he wasn't just a thief, and she damn well knew it.

Regina supposed she had known it for a while, but had just chosen not to think about it. Sorting through everything and admitting that perhaps she had found something – or some _one_ – that made her feel happy seemed rather daunting. But now it was _all_ she could think about, and with the thief not here, and her castle's business being rather quiet, there wasn't really much to distract herself with to pretend otherwise.

So, despite her wishes, the thief had been in the forefront of her mind. His warm smile and dimpled cheeks and bright, blue eyes she could get lost in…

She turned to lie on her back again with a huff.

This was ludicrous; she was not some lovesick teenager pining after her crush. He would only be gone for two weeks, and yet here she was on the third night moping. _Gain some self-control, Regina._

She would not pine. She would not mope. She would go about her days as normal and-

"Regina?" She heard, and her heart skipped a beat.

_Robin?_

Seriously? She was hearing his voice now? _God_ , she was going insane!Next; she'd be seeing him around the castle and…

"Regina? Can you hear me?"

_Wait, that wasn't her imagination. That was…_

Thenshe remembered; _the pendant_. The one lying against her chest and emitting a faint, purple hue.

Thank goodness; insanity could wait.

Her hand rose to hold the gem and her breath caught in her throat as she whispered; "Robin?"

"Regina!" Robin exclaimed, his voice rather loud and somewhat joyful.

The sound had a wide grin spreading itself across Regina's lips from cheek to cheek. _So much for not being some lovesick teenager…_

"Robin… Hi."

"Hello." There was a pause before; "I admit, this is still rather strange."

"I guess it is a foreign concept to you," Regina chuckled. "But almost every Storybrooke resident had a telephone; we're rather used to talking over distances."

"Ah. Well, forgive me; It appears I must familiarise myself with even more of your customs."

"I'm sure you'll get used to it soon," Regina comforted, internally musing that she’d like for this 'strange' method of communication to be used so often the novelty would have worn off for him. But that was for her own thoughts only.

"I hope so," Robin commented quietly, before perking up and asking; "How's the castle?"

"Still in one piece," she quipped, before adding; "quiet. It's rather boring without a certain outlaw stirring up trouble."

Robin hummed in over-exaggerated thought. “Is this outlaw a handsome fellow that a certain Queen finds irresistible?”

Regina grinned. “He might be.”

"I shall take that as an affirmative, milady."

Regina rolled her eyes, _of course he would._ "How are your men?"

"Also still in one piece, unfortunately not quiet."

"When are they ever?"

"Touché."

There was a short pause, though it was long enough for Regina to miss Robin's accented voice - and subsequently roll her eyes at herself as she pushed the thought back out of her mind.

She heard Robin ask; "How are _you_?"

Trying to summarise all her feelings into something that wasn't too emotionally baring, she settled on; "Rather tired, it's been a few long days."

Robin hummed in agreement. "If you are tired, then why are you up at such a late hour in the evening?"

"Couldn't sleep," she admitted, before realising how transparent she was being and wishing she had come up with something the thief couldn’t use against her.

"Dare I ask; are you missing me, milady?"

Regina gritted her teeth together. _Of course_ she missed him, so much more than she thought she would, though she'd be damned if she admitted anything of the sort to anyone.

"Of course not, thief," she answered, the retort lacking all of the usual bite and teasing with which her barbs would usually be delivered. She blamed it on lack of sleep.

 

He read right through her - as he always did - declaring a rather confident; "I can tell when you're lying, your majesty."

At a loss for any witty retort, Regina merely protested; "You're not as good as you think you are." 

Robin scoffed. "No; I'm better."

Regina rolled her eyes, humouring him; "if you say so, dear."

"So… If you're not _completely_ missing me with every fibre of your being," Robin started, his teasing tone bringing a smile onto Regina's lips. "What's keeping you up so late?"

"Nothing…" she sighed.

"Regina…"

"I'm just…" Regina started, pausing when she once again tried to package all of her emotions into a little box, and label it with something that didn't scream ' _I miss you, come back to me.'_

"Worried?"

 _That'd do_. "Yeah."

"Me too," he comforted. "But things will be ok, you'll see."

"I wish I had your optimism," Regina retorted, a brow raising even though the thief wasn't around to see it.

Robin didn't even miss a beat before he countered with; "I wish I had you here."

A fond smile stretched across Regina's lips, warmth blooming through her heart as she mused; "Smooth."

"Smooth is good, right?"

Regina chuckled, contemplating teasing the outlaw a little, but instead choosing to concede; "Yes, Robin. Smooth is good."

"Good," he responded, sounding somewhat smug.

Regina couldn't find it within herself to come up with something to try and take the thief down a notch, so just gave in and chuckled.

There was a comfortable silence for a short while, broken by Regina’s yawn before she heard Robin's echo hers.

"Robin?" She asked, lowering her voice until it was something akin to a whisper.

Her reply was a gruff ' _yeah?_ ', and Regina couldn't help but smile at the thought of a drowsy Robin trying to stay awake just so he could talk to her. Then Regina scoffed and decided the thief wasn't going to leave the castle again; in his absence her mind was filling with all sorts of romantic nonsense that had no business being there. "Nothing. You should go to sleep."

"So should you," he countered.

"I will," Regina began, before she smirked and teased; "As soon as you say goodnight."

Robin - being the stubborn outlaw that he was - declared; "You first."

And so the war began.

"No. I asked you."

"And I declined. After _you_ , your royal highness."

"Nope; peasants first," she teased with a chuckle. "I insist."

"I'm not saying goodnight first."

"Neither am I."

Robin tutted. "Then we're going to be here for a long time, your majesty."

"Unless you give in."

"Me? Surrender? _Never!_ "

They both laughed at Robin's uncharacteristically loud battle cry, though Regina soon reminded him of his place. "I am a Queen; I have conquered entire realms."

"Well, you haven't fought against me," he countered.

"Robin…"

"Regina…"

Pausing for a few seconds, Regina tried to mask another yawn as she realised just how tired she actually was. Perhaps now that she knew her thief was alright and not in immediate danger she could finally get some rest.

With a sigh – and vowing to hold out next time – Regina conceded with a slightly irritated; "Goodnight, Robin."

Robin responded with a softer; "Goodnight, Regina."

At the realisation that any moment she'd be without Robin's voice for goodness knew how long, something had her calling out the thief's name before he left. And when he hummed in acknowledgement, Regina spent a second taking in a breath and pressing her lips together in hesitation before she confessed; "I do miss you, you know."

"I know," he responded, and Regina waited a couple of seconds before she cleared her throat, prompting him to reply in kind. Robin chuckled, lowering his voice as he confessed; "I miss you too, Regina."

Smiling and closing her eyes – and then having difficulty opening them again - Regina softly declared; "We'll speak tomorrow."

"Try and stop me," Robin vowed.

That fond smile graced her lips once again, and it didn't fade until she was pulled into deep slumber, her eyelids falling shut as she became tangled in dreams of her thief.

  

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello guys.   
> So, I am aware that it has been almost half a year since I updated this fic, but I’m afraid the muse for this one has been somewhat lacking, and I’ve been having some stuff to deal with. However, at 12,718 words and 30 pages, I’m hoping that this - my longest chapter yet - makes up for it.   
> As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated, and for the trouble and frustration this chapter has put me through, any feedback at all would make it worth it.   
> So, if you are still with me, then thank you so so much. I hope you guys like this one and don’t want to hunt me down too much :D  
> Mwah

**Hello guys.**

**So, I am aware that it has been almost half a year since I updated this fic, but I’m afraid the muse for this one has been somewhat lacking, and I’ve been having some stuff to deal with. However, at 12,718 words and 30 pages, I’m hoping that this - my longest chapter yet - makes up for it.**

**As usual, reviews are greatly appreciated, and for the trouble and frustration this chapter has put me through, any feedback at all would make it worth it.**

**So, if you are still with me, then thank you so so much. I hope you guys like this one and don’t want to hunt me down too much :D**

**Mwah**

**(Also, just a little shoutout to Brooke because I said I’d try to update for her birthday which was over a week ago, so here’s your little shoutout: ‘Happy Belated Birthday!’)**

**…**

As promised, Roland visited Regina the next day, dragging Friar Tuck around corners and down corridors until they were standing outside of Regina's room.

"I'm not sure we're supposed to be here, my boy," the Friar said warily, looking around him as if on the lookout for witnesses.

"But Regina said I can come see her," Roland declared, coming to a stop outside the ornately carved door, "and this is her room."

The Friar scoffed. "You can't just let yourself into the Queen's chambers, Roland."

"Papa does, he said so."

"Yes, well, your father is…" Fortunately, Friar Tuck stopped the rest of his intended sentence when he realised who was by his side, choosing to censor his words and instead state; "Your father knows the Queen a lot better than you do."

"But she said I'm her favourite. That's why she lets me call her Regina. And her favourite food is lasna, and apples, and she likes red and dark blue..." Roland pointed out, listing the favourite things he and Regina had talked about when they baked a week before last. "See? I do know her."

Friar Tuck narrowed his eyes. "Alright, but if she says we're not welcome here then we're to listen to her, okay?"

"Okay,"  Roland agreed, and then without hesitation, knocked on the Queen's door.

The Friar waited and shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other, shifting quicker when Roland knocked again in his childish impatience.

When the Queen opened the door, Friar Tuck momentarily thought they had come to the wrong room, taking a second to recognise the woman standing before him as the ruler of the kingdom.

In a stark contrast to the usual, elaborate dresses and cloaks, the monarch was dressed down in what he could possibly label as casual. Cream trousers, white blouse, a black jacket longer at the back than at the front…  Even her hair was loosely braided over her shoulder instead of pinned high on her head.

"Specific plans for today, Your Majesty?" The Friar couldn't help but ask, distractedly taking in the neutral tones painting her face instead of the usual bright lips and dark eyes.

"I was planning on spending some time in the stables," she answered, looking from him to the young boy at his side.

The Friar also looked to Roland and opened his mouth to speak, but the young boy interrupted him.

"Can I go too?" He asked, and then adding on an exaggerated; " _please._ "

"Roland, I don't think Her Majesty-"

"He's fine to come too," Regina intervened. "A little human company might be nice."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Regina retorted, somewhat proud of keeping the harshness out of her voice. "And I did promise he could spend some time with me today."

The Friar narrowed his eyes at the Queen, but then softened and agreed. "Alright."

Roland jumped up and down, racing into Regina's room and once again familiarising himself with the Queen's chambers. Regina smiled at the young boy's energy, hoping he'd transfer some of it to her throughout the day.

She was brought out of her musings by Friar Tuck's order: "Don't let him out of your sight."

Regina bit back the urge to snap ' _I know how to take care of a little boy_ ', warding off any further comments to claw at the wound of her missing, little prince. Instead, she just glared and firmly declared; "I won't."

She didn't need to be told how to look after Robin's son; she could remember all the trouble Henry used to get into the second her back was turned. The first trip to the emergency room almost had him glued to her side for the rest of the year.

But she couldn't dwell, not today, not when she was going to spend time with another little boy she needed to be her best self for. The adorable, little Merry Man deserved that at the very least. And today, the pain of being a mother without her son was somewhat bearable. Regina was determined to try and keep it that way.

"Good." The Friar looked past the Queen to where his friend's son was grasping the luxury bedcovers, trying to hoist himself up onto Regina's bed, but giving up when all he succeeded in doing was pulling the bedding towards him. "He's a precious little boy. Robin would be lost if anything happened to him."

"He's not the only one," Regina mused, so quiet the Friar almost didn't hear. She turned back to the boy's minder, declaring; "I'll get him back to you for supper."

"Thank you." After an awkward pause, Friar Tuck turned to Roland and told him; "You have a good day, and behave."

"I will!" The boy shouted before running over to Regina, grasping her hand in his as he asked; "Can we go now?"

…

Roland kept hold of Regina all the way to the stables, swinging their joined hands between them as he chatted incessantly about something or other. Regina merely smiled at the boy, offering contribution whenever he paused for breath, feeling herself become a little lighter with each step away from the castle.

She let Roland choose the horse they travelled on, allowing them a few moments to get acquainted before she double-checked the wicker basket of picnic goodies she had brought for their trip. She hadn't told Roland where they were going, instead, she'd called it a ' _special surprise_ ', creating nothing but excitement within the boy. And as they'd loaded the black freisian with supplies, the lad had practically been vibrating with energy.

Regina had been sure that Roland's enthusiasm would dwindle once they'd climbed atop Celestian and made their way into the forest, but no... The youngest Merry Man clearly had an unlimited supply of excitement, and as a small smile made its way onto her face, Regina found it to be somewhat contagious.

...

For the first part of their journey, they trotted down a forest path, a dirt road that had too many tree roots above the surface to be comfortable for carriages, but enough even ground that riding on a horse was relatively smooth.

Roland's head turned this way and that, taking in the dense trees and green leaves and the occasional dash of colour from wild flowers.

"Can we go faster, Regina?" The young boy asked, twisting to look up at the woman sat behind him.

She replied in the affirmative, but reminded Roland to hold on tightly - she'd trapped him between her arms as she held onto the reigns, though young boys weren't exactly ones to follow every order they were given. Regina didn't go fast enough to be considered dangerous, just quickening her pace so the summer breeze ruffled his curls.

His small hand reached out and collected a handful of leaves from overgrown branches, letting them get carried away in the wind by one before he collected some more and did it again - until Regina tucked his hand into his chest to prevent any possible injuries from loose twigs.

The boy contented himself with humming tunes as he continued to take in the view around him, but as they reached the end of the path - and made a right turn onto a carriage road - the boy turned silent and his jaw dropped. Next to them was low shrubbery, a tree planted every few metres, and then there was a slow moving river, the ripples on the water shining like diamonds with light reflected from the sun.

A beautiful sight.

Regina peeked over the boy's shoulder, smiling at the look of wonder on his face as he pointed out flowers on the embankment at other side, and then the fish swimming just below the surface, and then a deer on the road ahead that ran away when Roland shouted an excited " _Hello_!".

The young boy's pout lasted all of two seconds before he got distracted again.

...

After travelling a short while - with Regina straightening Roland whenever he leaned a bit too far to either side - the river gradually became shallower, so much so that they could see the rocks and stones on the bed. But that was when the path took them into the forest and Roland lost sight of the river for a short while, only seeing peeks between the dense trees.

Fortunately, Roland's frown only lasted until they reached a clearing, and then the young boy started squirming in excitement again.

Regina dismounted Celestian, and Roland practically threw himself at her in his impatience to get to the ground. The moment his feet touched solid earth he ran to the edge towards the water, but halted at Regina's authoritative; "don't put one foot in that water, young man."

Roland's frown returned, but he obeyed the Queen's orders, choosing to explore the forest nearby instead.

His hands trailed over the thin trunks belonging to the trees surrounding them, his fingers catching on knots in the wood and his toes hitting open roots hidden beneath long blades of grass. The long branches swept over them, forming shade from the summer sun, with rays of brightness peeking through as they shifted in the wind.

"Roland?" Regina called, beckoning him over to where she was tying Celestian to a highline between the trees.

"Why are you tying the horsey up, Regina?" Roland pouted. "Can't he come with us?"

"I'm afraid not, honey," Regina answered, pointing over to the other side of the stream. "The other side is fenced to protect the land, Celestian can't pass through."

"Oh..."

"But he'll be fine here for a short time, and we'll treat him to a few apples, how about that?"

Roland considered the Queen's deal, eyeing the bright red apple that she pulled from her bag and conceding; "okay."

Regina smiled as she watched Roland feed their horse some fruit, laughing at his face when he pulled his hand away and glared at his palm coated in shiny slobber.

"Can we go now, Regina?" he asked, trying to work out where was best to clean his hand and settling for the underside of his tunic.

"Alright," she chuckled, picking up the picnic basket in one hand, and taking one of Roland's in the other.

She led him towards the shallow water about a foot deep, and as he got nearer, Roland spotted a series of large rocks placed from one side of the riverbed to the other, each with a flat surface protruding above the stream.

"Stepping stones!" Roland gasped, jumping with excitement before tugging them both forward. "I wanna go first."

"I want you to hold my hand though, alright? I want no injuries today."

Roland had no qualms with that; in seconds he had grasped hold of Regina's fingers and was stepping out onto the first stone.

Regina needn't have worried about the boy; Roland hopped the stones with such ease that he could probably do it blindfolded. She forgot quite often that the Merry Men had lived in the forest for decades, that they were used to treading unknown paths, following difficult routes, navigating rough terrain... Roland had grown up with it.

And as they reached the last step, Regina mused that he was probably even better suited for this walk than she was.

...

"Regina, where are we going?" Roland asked a few minutes after they had crossed the stream. He had looked back at Celestian and waved until Regina had assured him that the horse would be fine, and then he had started becoming more and more excited with every step.

"I told you; we're going to a special, secret place," Regina explained, watching the child's eyes go wide in wonder.

"Are we nearly there yet?"

Regina chuckled and ruffled the boy's hair, noting things didn’t differ all that much in the way of childish habits between Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest.

"Nearly," Regina grinned, pointing a little ahead of them and telling him; "just a couple of more minutes."

Roland huffed but grasped Regina's hand, charging forward and pulling her behind him in his quest to reach the secret location faster. They avoided the odd rocks that had fallen from the beginnings of a wall - which was only formed from odd stones just piled on top of each other in the hopes it would stay standing - and Regina insisted on walking on the side of the path that sloped down into dense trees and foliage; she didn't want Roland to get a little too curious and take a tumble.

The young boy’s love of exploring brought a smile to the Queen’s face, reminding her of another child who found such joy in discovering new things. Regina knew she promised herself that there would be no wallowing today, but Henry would have loved Roland. There were so many traits shared between the two; kindness, bravery, a thirst for an adventure... They would have gotten along brilliantly, been great friends, perhaps Henry could even play big brother – lord knew he had asked Regina for a sibling enough times as a child.

"Regina! Regina! Look!" Roland shouted, drawing her out of her musings as each of his excited jumps tugged on her hand.

Regina smiled, looking ahead and seeing the stone ruins that she had spent many an hour in. "See? I told you we weren't that far away."

Roland stopped the moment he reached the steps. The uneven stone blocks that had two straight ahead, and then a further ten after a turn to the left, with a wall on either side. Once he had looked back to Regina and saw her approving nod, he bounded upwards, stopping at the top to poke at the green moss covering the tops of the walls whilst the Queen followed.

They took a couple of steps to the right, before they passed through the archway that used to be the door, and Roland only took a second to look at the space in front of him before stepping forward and running around it.

The ground was flat, a smattering of dust in the middle with more at the edges where the wind had blown it into piles - the lack of a roof leaving the building open to the elements.

But in the summer sun, with rays of light filtering through the trees nearby and the gaps in the walls, it looked lovely and welcoming.

"What do you think?" Regina asked, half-knowing Roland liked it already due to his enthusiastic exploring.

He didn't even stop in his running to shout back; "I love it!"

"I'm glad," she smiled, looking around the place she had escaped to on several occasions - both before she cast the curse and since they had returned. It was quiet, peaceful, and - as far as she knew - unknown to the other inhabitants of the castle.

Regina wasn't sure what the full story behind it was, only that there was a young girl who had escaped a wretched life to live in solitude, relying only upon herself to survive, and succeeding in doing so until she vanished without a trace decades later. The Queen could relate to that, and hoped the girl found what she was looking for, hoped that her life had turned out somewhat better than what Regina had experienced.

But then Roland ran up to her, wrapped his arms around her waist and thanked her for showing him her secret place, and Regina mused that perhaps her life wasn't as hopeless as it used to be anymore.

...

It was after they'd shaken the blanket out and placed it wherever Roland deemed acceptable to rest for a short time that they start eating, taking out sandwiches and fruit and water that Regina had gathered that morning.

Roland still found ways to distract himself, using a twig to draw in the dirt on the floor and forgetting about the half-chewed food he had still in his mouth until Regina reminded him to eat properly.

Roland started with his name, then Regina's, and then moved on to trees and flowers and animals, anything that came into his mind. But it wasn't too long after that when Roland's enthusiasm for drawing dwindled, his content smile fading as he ground to a halt, sitting there with a forlorn frown on his face as his eyes suddenly filled with tears and _oh_ how it hurt Regina's heart.

"Honey, what's the matter?" She asked, placing her food down and giving him her attention.

He looked up at her for a moment before downturning his gaze, mumbling; "nothing."

"Roland..." Regina implored, tilting her head so he met her eye again, giving him a small, comforting smile as she tried to work out what could be troubling the boy, and only coming to one main conclusion; "Is this about your father?"

"I'm not scared," he protested. "Being scared is for babies."

"Now, that's not true at all," Regina corrected, assuring him; "Everyone gets scared sometimes."

His big eyes looked up at her in wonder. "Even you?"

"Even me."

Roland was quiet for a moment, before he tentatively asked; "Are you scared about papa too?"

"I'm a little worried, yes," Regina admitted, not wanting to lie to the boy and needing to reiterate that being scared wasn't something one grew out of. "But I believe that he can take care of himself."

"Daddy is very brave," Roland mused, the seriousness of his deliverance having Regina chuckling.

"That he is."

"He's a hero," he added, and Regina nodded as a smile quirked at the corner of her lips.

"If you say so, dear."

"Like you."

Regina froze, looking at Roland with wide eyes as she stammered over nonsensical syllables.

Roland seemed to be oblivious to the stupor he just put Regina in, asking; "Can I get some more food, please?"

Regina all but managed a nod in the affirmative, a stuttered ' _uh-huh_ ' leaving her lips as Roland dug into the basket she brought to feed his ever-empty belly.

She had barely gotten over that shock before Roland dealt her another.

He tentatively called her name, waiting until she met his eyes and nodded to show him he had her attention before asking; "Do you have a papa?"

The painful constriction around her heart whenever Regina thought about her father and his fate returned, and it was after she had taken a moment to compose herself that she replied with a quiet, "no, I don't..."

Roland stilled in eating his apple, looking up at Regina with a sad frown. "Why not?"

The Queen deliberated on what to tell the boy, opening and closing her mouth a couple of times before she settled on a simple, "he died."

"Like my mama," Roland mumbled, diverting his gaze to the ground when Regina hummed in confirmation. "Did your papa get sick too?"

_Oh, the innocence of a child..._

"No," Regina breathed, distracting herself by watching her fingers twist in her grasp, trying to keep the tears at bay. "No, he didn't."

For a fleeting moment, Regina wondered what her father would say if he saw her now. Would he be proud? He had always had unwavering faith in her, believing that she would one day find happiness, that she could put everything behind her and move on from revenge. But now that she had, he was no longer here to see it, because she had thought that her quest to destroy Snow White was more important.

The one good thing to come out of her father's death had been the result of the curse; his namesake, her little prince. But it now occurred to Regina that he too was gone, and she had nothing. It had all been for _nothing_.

"I'm sorry, majesty," Regina heard, before the little boy had crawled his way over the picnic blanket and sat beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and sounding close to tears himself when he said: "I didn't mean to make you cry."

With a startled blink, Regina realised the moisture collected in her eyes had escaped and rolled down her cheeks. Looking down at the little boy wrapped around her, she hated herself just that little bit more for upsetting him.

"It's not your fault, honey," she promised, scooping him into her lap and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

"Really?"

"Really. And I'll make you a deal; if you smile, I'll smile. How about that?"

"Okay." Roland sniffed, using the back of his hand to wipe his nose before he looked up and smiled at the Queen.

"There we are," Regina said, forcing her own lips to curve in response - though she felt her smile become a little more real when the boy threw his arms around her neck in a tight hug.

Passing a hand through his head of curls, Regina already felt a little less at war with herself.

It appeared the ability to ease her mind by a simple embrace was owned by both father and son. 

...

The remaining food for lunch was eaten rather quickly, the young boy never leaving the Queen's lap unless it was to grab something else to feed himself - or a grape to feed to Regina through their giggles. And over the short amount of time taken to clear the plates and containers, the clear, blue, summer sky had filled with grey clouds that held the promise of a rain shower.

"Roland, I think we should get going, dear," Regina called out, watching the boy hop and jump over the line of twigs he had made on the floor.

"Do we _have_ to?" Roland whined, taking one look at Regina's raised eyebrow to deflate and take the hand she had offered to lead him out.

Despite the possible rain, the walk back to the stream was still relatively leisurely, still filled with conversation about this and that - mainly from Roland.

When they reached the stepping stones, Roland didn't wait for Regina before skipping across them. He even had the nerve to call back to her and shout; "hurry up, Majesty."

It was something so typical of the boy's father that she had to smile - and then she felt a little clench in her heart as she was reminded that the thief was still going to be away from her for another ten days. It felt too long.

Whilst Regina untied the horse from the high line, Roland spend a moment stroking the horse's belly, muttering apologies about leaving but telling him that they had a great time, and next time they'd go somewhere that he could come too.

Regina smiled, hoisting the boy back up onto the horse and then situating herself right behind him, taking the reins and starting them on their return journey to the castle in the hopes they would beat the rain.

They didn't.

After half of their trip back, the skies opened, and down fell the water droplets that clung to their hair and skin and clothing as Regina hurried Celestian along.

It didn't sour their spirits though; the fun day away from the castle being a welcome distraction for the both of them, and they couldn't help but laugh as they became absolutely sodden and were powerless to do anything about it.

...

After the impromptu downpour that had their hair matted to their heads and their boots squelching with every step, Regina and Roland made their way towards the Merry Men's corridor.

Regina's original plan was to take Roland back to Friar Tuck and ask him to sort the boy out whilst she changed. But the young lad refused to let Regina stop until he had tugged her all the way to the room he shared with his dad.

"I wanna show you my room," he insisted, completely missing Regina's smirk as she suppressed the urge to tell the boy she had _already_ seen his room - though she may have been somewhat distracted by his father at the time to take note of anything but the bed...

When the door was opened and they had both stepped forward into the homely bedroom, Regina was overwhelmed by the scent of _Robin,_ unable to do anything but inhale deeply as a smile tugged at her lips, the scent of pine and petrichor that she had once mercilessly teased the thief about now a familiar comfort to her.

Upon noticing Roland was stood there, wringing out his clothing, she encouraged him into the bathroom, stating if he needed any help then she was right outside.

The thought of waiting in her uncomfortably wet clothes made Regina grimace, and after a quick wave of her hand her clothes and hair were magically dry, her grimace turning into a sigh of relief.

Once she had called through the door to ensure Roland was okay, Regina turned her attention to the rest of the room, taking in details that she wouldn't normally observe when she was being divested of her clothing with nimble fingers or robbed of her thought processes with kisses.

There were a few things that immediately drew a smile to her face; a couple of drawings from Roland scattered about, some wooden toys that were obviously loved and had not been put away, and a few of Robin's crumpled shirts strewn across the floor - she expected nothing less from a thief that had lived in a forest up until now. Though, it was generally clean, and Regina couldn't help but feel a little impressed.

Her eyes glanced over a wooden box hidden underneath the table to the right wall, just before the door Roland had gone through, and despite her best efforts, curiosity tempted Regina over and had her pulling it towards her.

The box was wonderfully carved - not quite the exquisite designs she had seen Gepetto create, but impressive all the same. When she raised the lid, the first thing she noticed was a small bouquet of dried flowers, pink blossom, white and pink roses, and daisies, tied together with green twine. Then her attention was drawn to a clay figure about the size of her palm, obviously made by Roland and was something that he would have to explain to her.

Regina carefully withdrew both the flowers and the clay figure, placing them on the floor by her right knee before taking out a folded square of paper. When she revealed the drawing inside it, she couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her.

There were a series of large rectangles at the back, and a black shape with oranges and reds sprouting from one end, and Regina interpreted it as a dragon guarding a castle. And then at the front there were several small stick figures at the bottom of the page, most with smiles, some with grins, hairstyles ranging from short spikes of yellow, to a blob of brown, to long lines of black, to absolutely nothing at all.

The drawing was definitely one to showcase. There had obviously been a lot of time spent on it - for the attention span of a four-year-old - and Regina couldn't help but feel proud of the boy.

Then Regina noticed another folded sheet underneath it, and a smile grew on her face in anticipation of what Roland had drawn on this one.

Only it wasn't Roland who had drawn on it... It was Robin.

A sketch of _her_ \- from goodness knows when - brilliantly drawn. She looked... Well, she looked stunning. Not the view that she saw in her mirror, but apparently what Robin saw whenever he looked at her. The light illuminated her features, reflected in her eyes, and the serene expression on her face was one that she couldn't ever remember feeling.

He had sat, watched her, drawn her, mapped her skin with pencil and paper - which somehow felt just as intimate as when he would trace her body with his lips. And since this cloak had been torn months ago, it surprised her to work out that this was done before they had even kissed.

The damn thief had been fond of her for longer than she thought, and had still made it his personal mission to fill her with ire every time they were in the same general vicinity.

_The bastard,_ she thought with a fond smile.

Though looking back, Regina supposed she did the exact same thing.

...

By the time Roland had come out of the bathroom, Regina had put the box and it's contents away, and if Roland was confused about the proud smile or surprise hug she gave him the moment she saw him, he didn't say anything.

But the boy's patience to talk to his father was wearing thin, and he kept glaring at the pendant hanging around the Queen's neck as if willing it to glow.

"What do you feel like doing now?" Regina asked, in an attempt to entertain him and keep their good mood in tact.

"Talk to papa," the boy answered, and Regina let out a short sigh.

"How about we do something to keep busy until he can call?" She suggested. "Perhaps draw him a picture? Or we can walk around the castle for a short while?"

"Papa already showed me the castle," Roland said, and Regina narrowed her eyes at the thought of Robin sneaking around and exploring parts of the castle she didn't permit. Though she eased a little when Roland added: "but he only showed the big rooms like the kitchen, and the grand hall, and the room where all the royal people talk about stuff."

"Well," Regina started, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret; "how about _I_ show you some of the more interesting rooms?"

As the boy's eyes widened and he nodded his head so hard Regina thought he'd have a headache, the Queen smiled at the knowledge that she had brought Roland's excitement back.

...

The tour was only supposed to last an hour or so, but Regina found that she quite enjoyed showing the little boy the secret rooms she had found over the years, and so it was nearing supper time when they came back to the Merry Men's hallway. They'd stopped by Friar Tuck's room, explained that Robin still hadn't called and Roland would be staying with Regina until he did - the man had opened his mouth to protest but took one look at the young boy's hopeful expression and had reluctantly agreed.

They'd returned to Roland's room, Regina setting out pencils and paper and Roland choosing to practice his writing so he could show his father when he returned.

And as if Robin could sense it, the moment the boy had finished writing 'papa, I love you' Regina's pendant started to glow.

" _Papa_!" Roland shouted the moment he noticed, and he didn't even wait for Regina to remove it from around her neck before he'd grasped it and tugged it towards him with another shout; "Daddy!"

Wincing as the braided leather dug into her skin and forced her to bend until she almost headbutted the table they were writing on, Regina eased the necklace off before sitting straight again, rubbing her sore skin with a pout.

The young boy started discussing his day starting at the moment he woke up and giving minute-by-minute detail…

"...and then after we got changed Regina took me on a tour of the Castle. Did you know there's a music room, papa? And there's a room full of paintings that aren't on the walls. And there's rooms that are empty. We could have a bed chamber _each_ , papa!"

There was a pause whilst Robin talked and Roland nodded along even though his father couldn't hear, then the boy turned to look at the Queen as he stated; "Yeah, I like Regina."

A smile broke out on Regina's face as she ruffled his hair, but then she saw the boy frown and her face followed suit. "No, _I_ like her more."

Regina blinked, a little taken aback. Were they really arguing about who liked her the most?

"No, _I_ do."

Apparently, yes.

Regina's surprise faded somewhat with each indignant protest from Roland - presumably after a matching one from Robin - and her frown morphed into a smile, wondering what these Locksleys had seen in her to warrant their fierce affection.

Roland paused for a moment, his features scrunching as he deliberated a suggestion his father made before agreeing, waiting another moment before he divulged; "yes, and she said she was worried about you."

Regina sent a glare over to the boy.

_What was it with kids and revealing her secrets?_

Roland nodded once before handing the necklace over to her. "Papa wants to talk to you."

"I bet he does," Regina mumbled under her breath, not even letting Robin getting a word in before starting; "Your son has been overdosed with fresh air and is probably exhausted and doesn't even know-"

"I love that I can make you worry," Robin stated, interrupting her.

Regina could practically see his smug-ass grin on his face and sighed. What was the point in even denying it? "You said this wasn't to make me worried."

"You said you weren't straight after I said that."

"Well… I lied," Regina admitted, before countering; "But you lied first."

Robin hummed in acknowledgement before turning a little serious. "I worry about you too, you know?"

"I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself," she reminded him.

"Of that I have no doubt," Robin assured her. "And yet I still worry, milady."

"Well then… I guess we're even."

"I guess so. How about you keep yourself safe, and I'll keep myself safe?" he offered, and Regina narrowed her eyes as she deliberated.

"You better."

_He damn well better._

Robin was quiet for a short while before he asked; "Will Her Majesty be available later?"

Regina chuckled. "Her Majesty has no plans."

"Then I will talk to you again this evening," Robin declared. "We have to hike up this rather large hill and I'm afraid I'll be too out of breath to talk to you."

"Wouldn't be the first time," Regina teased with a smirk.

Robin's dirty chuckle in her ear had her smile growing. "In all fairness, that was your fault."

"I didn't hear you complaining."

"There was nothing to complain about, milady."

Regina bit her lip, stifling a grin before she registered movement in the corner of her eye and realised the topic of conversation was not exactly suitable for when a child was sat nearby.

"I'll talk to you later."

"I look forward to it," Robin drawled, bringing forth a smile from Regina, one that faded along with the pendant's glow as Robin returned his attention to whatever he was doing, wherever he was.

...

Despite all protestations that he was absolutely _not tired at all_ , Roland had found himself in his sleepwear and being tucked into bed by the former Evil Queen.

"The sooner you go to sleep, the less time you have to wait to speak with your father tomorrow," Regina bargained, and it seemed to succeed in quelling the boy's impending tantrum.

"Regina... Do you really think papa will be okay?"

"I do," Regina smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Your papa is strong, and clever, and brave. He will be back before you know it, dear."

Roland paused, twisting his bedcovers in his hands before quietly mumbling; "I'm scared."

"I know, honey," Regina soothed, placing a hand over both of his. "And things like this can be scary, but you are very brave, just like your father. As I've told you before; you're my knight in shining armour."

“I want to be a knight.” Roland said enthusiastically, before his bottom lip pouted and he looked down, “but papa won’t let me.”

“He won’t let you?” Regina asked, and she felt herself becoming irate at the thought of Robin – of _any_ parent – telling their child what they could or could not be, her own prejudiced experience adding fuel to the fire.

“Papa says I’m not old enough yet. He said I could get hurt.”

With a lick of shame, Regina’s anger melted away, leaving behind a wave of guilt. Of _course_ Robin was not going force ideals onto his son. He wasn’t anything like that, and Regina felt the need to apologise for the mere thought entering her head. She had to remind herself that not all parents were like hers, not all children had their life mapped out before they were even born. Certainly not Roland.

“Do you think I’m old enough, Majesty?” he asked, looking up at her.

“I think anyone is old enough to be a knight,” Regina stated, and Roland frowned and folded his arms with a huff, no doubt annoyed at his father for telling him otherwise.

“But,” Regina continued, “I don’t think you’re old enough to fight yet.”

Roland looked at Regina, a questioning look on his face. “If I’m not old enough to fight, how can I be a knight?”

“Knights have lots of different jobs, Roland. It’s not just going into battle.”

“It’s not?”

“No.” Regina shook her head with a smile, and set about proving it. “When your papa goes away, when he has something important he needs to do, does he take you with him?”

“Sometimes,” Roland responded. “But usually he tells me to stay with Fry Tuck or Uncle John.”

“Does he say why?”

Roland shook his head. "Sometimes he says I'm too little."

“Well, when I leave my castle – when I have important business to attend to – I always leave my bravest knights here, to protect the Kingdom.”

“Really?”

“Really. That’s what your father’s doing; he’s leaving you with Friar Tuck or Little John so you can protect everyone." Regina beamed at the way he listened to her with rapt attention. "See? You’re already a knight.”

“I’m a knight?” Roland whispered in awe.

“You are to me,” Regina said, warmth seeping into her tone and her eyes alike. “Now then, sleep time.”

“Majesty?”

Regina paused in standing from the bed, sitting back down at Roland's serious face. “Yes, honey?”

“Why did that man call you the Evil Queen?”

Regina bristled, remembering bumping into Grumpy whilst showing Roland around the castle, recollecting when he commented on how far she'd come from destroying lives to looking after a stranger's child. She could strangle that dwarf right about now.

But Regina kept her temper in check, swallowing down her rising anger as she admitted; "Because that's what I used to be known as."

"Why?"

Biting her lip, Regina spent a moment trying to collect her thoughts, trying to work out a way to explain to a young child the reasons for her past.

“For a long time, I wasn’t a good person," Regina started. "I did some very bad things and I hurt a lot of people.”

“Why?” Roland asked again, and for once, Regina cursed childhood curiosity.

“Because I was sad," she stated. "And I thought that if I could make other people sad then it would make me happier.”

Roland paused, pursing his lips as he took in the information before he quietly asked; “Did it?”

Regina slowly shook her head. “No, not really. I was still unhappy, but it just made my life seem that little bit better.”

“Oh...”

Regina watched as Roland went quiet, and for a moment she wished he'd be back to asking her questions. “But no matter what you hear, no matter what anyone tells you, I would _never_ hurt you, Roland," she vowed, reaching out to gently cup his chin. "Never.”

"I know," Roland smiled, taking her hand in both of his, and Regina almost felt like crying from this boy's unwavering faith in her. “Just like you wouldn't hurt papa."

“Well, sometimes your father can be very annoying and I might be tempted," Regina teased, drawing a chuckle from both of them before Regina sobered somewhat. "But no, I don’t want to hurt your papa, Roland.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Roland shifted under the covers, sitting and outstretching his arms so he could hug her. “Thank you, ‘Gina.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Regina said as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her cheek on the top of his head for a moment and enjoying the comfort he brought. “Now then, I think it’s time for this little Merry Man to go to sleep.”

And for once, the boy didn't argue, shifting back down under the covers and smiling at her.

“Okay. Night, Regina.”

Regina kissed his forehead and smoothed out his covers. “Goodnight, Roland.”

She blew out the candle on his bedside table, making her way to the door when she heard Roland call out her name.

"Yes, Roland?”

The boy paused, looking slightly nervous for a second before he looked her in the eye and declared; “I don’t think you’re evil.”

Regina's breath caught in her throat, and it was a fight to keep the emotional tears in her eyes from tumbling down her cheeks - but she managed it. Just.

"Thank you," she choked out, swallowing and clearing her throat before bidding him a final goodnight; "Sweet dreams, my dear.”

 …

On her way back to her chambers, a couple of those tears she tried to fight managed to escape, and Regina wiped them away before they even made it past her cheekbone.

This young boy… He had so much faith in her - despite only knowing her for several months, and only being comfortable enough to talk to her for mere weeks.

Regina remembered the young boy in the earlier time they spent here, the way he'd shy away behind his father whenever she'd walk past, or glance at her in the dining hall only to quickly avert his eyes when she tried to meet his gaze.

She supposed that she wasn't the most welcoming of people, and her general aura of ' _leave me the fuck alone'_ had scared a few people into avoiding her at whatever cost. But as she'd warmed up to others, he'd warmed up to her, and now she couldn't imagine what she'd do without him. The little ray of sunshine who never failed to bring a smile to her face…

The Queen entered her own chambers with her lips curved upwards, a testament to the young boy's effect on her, though her content smile faded when she paused and realised just how tired she actually was.

She'd forgotten just how fatiguing taking care of a young child could be.

Deciding that she wasn't going to leave this room until the next day, she started removing her clothes on the way to her wardrobe. The coat was divested before she was even halfway there, placed over the back of her dresser chair along with her white blouse to deal with the next day. Just before she reached her wardrobe she started pushing down her trousers, pausing to step out of them and then spending her last few steps righting them - and then throwing them to join the rest of her dirty clothes a few feet away.

Her fingers trailed over the hangers holding her nightclothes, wondering what she should wear. She came to rest on a silk nightdress, it was light enough that she'd keep cool throughout the night, and it's deep green colour and laced hem that fell just above her thigh was something that she knew the thief would appreciate. And so, telling herself that she wasn't being a sentimental fool, she took it off of the hanger and slipped it on, removing her underwear and breathing a deep, freeing sigh.

As she climbed into her bed she noticed the book on her bedside table that she had started to read a few nights ago, but of which she hadn't perused any further.

Reclining back into her pillows, Regina grasped the bookmark protruding from the top and opened to her current page - and then remembered why she hadn't been eager to read any more. The writing was Old Elvish, a language she used to be able to translate in her sleep, but had somewhat become out of practice as of late. It was tiring on her brain, made her brow furrow and a headache start to announce its presence...

And, as if answering an unspoken prayer, that was when the pendant around her neck started to glow.

With a growing smile, Regina wrapped her fingers around the enchanted gemstone, waiting a moment before commenting; "Good evening."

He returned the sentiment, and she couldn't help but add a mocking; "it's been _so long_ since I last heard from you."

Robin chuckled. "What can I say? I just can't seem to stay away."

"Oh, how problematic for you."

"I find I don't seem to mind all that much," Robin admitted, and Regina couldn't fight the grin appearing on her face - though it quickly dropped when he asked; "Can I inquire as to what are you wearing?"

"What? How… Uh..." Regina stammered, before she managed to collect her thoughts. "Who told you about that?"

"About what?" Robin asked, and he genuinely sounded confused, which, in turn, also made Regina confused.

"Why are you asking me what I'm wearing?"

"Because I was thinking about it earlier," Robin answered, as if it was the only logical explanation. "Why do you think I'm asking?"

An internal war raged in Regina's head whether to explain, but thinking it too complicated and too out of Robin's grasp of modern culture, she replied; "No reason…"

Though he was apparently having none of it. "Regina…"

Regina rolled her eyes and sighed, simply explaining; "In Storybrooke, when two people were apart who usually sleep together, they'd use telephones to talk."

"About each other's clothing?"

"More along the lines of; how they'd remove it."

Regina waited for a second, trying to predict his reaction, and when he simply breathed a comprehending ' _ah'_ she could practically see the thief's smirk.

"So... what would be said during these conversations?"

Regina rolled her eyes again at the unexpected turn of her evening. "Well 'what are you wearing?' is the cliché starter, then 'what are you doing?' or 'what are you thinking of?' before leading into... Other stuff.'"

"Oh, is this something you have done before?"

Regina shook her head, then remembered that Robin couldn't see and verbally answered him. "No. But spend enough time around Ruby and you learn things you didn't even need to know."

Robin laughed, and the sound drew a small chuckle of her own.

"So…" she heard, before Robin breathed in and asked again; "What _are_ you wearing?"

_Oh_. Okay. So _that_ wasn't where she thought this conversation would go.

She'd never dismiss it entirely, it was just... She'd learned that Robin was very physical in his touches, satisfying themselves when the other couldn't didn't really occur to her as something he'd be interested in.

But then again, her thief was full of surprises.

And _really,_ who was she to say 'no' to having a sexy, British man talk dirty to her?

"My nightdress." And then because if they were trying this then they might as well start as they meant to go on, she added a low; "nothing else."

Robin hummed in approval. "What does it look like?"

Regina looked down, feeling rather foolish at wearing green just because it reminded her of the outlaw.

But she could just say it was a coincidence.

It wasn't. But it could have been.

"Green, silk, cream lace around the edges."

"Is it one of the long ones?" Robin asked, before his voice lowered again; "Or one of the sexy ones that only reach partway down your thigh?"

"The sexy ones," she admitted, feeling amused that she already knew what the thief liked.

"What are you doing?"

Regina looked at the book next to her that she had been trying to make sense of. "Reading."

"Anything exciting?"

"Well… It's not the Karma Sutra," she joked.

Robin stammered, sounding rather confused as he asked; "The what?"

Regina grimaced, forgetting about the culture difference between the two and trying to work out how to describe the Karma Sutra, of all things. "Um, it's a book... about sex."

"Are there some poor, unfortunate souls who do not know how it works?"

Regina giggled. "Apparently so."

"Well," he started, and Regina could imagine him puffing up his chest before he declared; "aren't you fortunate that you have me, Your Majesty?"

"You think I can't handle myself?"

"Oh I'm certain you can," he quipped. "But as I have previously stated; I'm better."

Regina rolled her eyes. "You're also big-headed."

"Well, I'd love to come and prove it to you, but I'm afraid I'm a bit tied up at the moment with everything going on here."

Regina smirked. "Tied up, huh?"

Robin gave a dirty chuckle. "We both know _you're_ the one who likes to be tied up, Regina."

His low voice had Regina swallowing, her mind flashing with images of being restrained to the headboard, of being held down whilst Robin's hips knocked into hers, and from the sudden clench in her core she had to admit that the man had a point there.

"But perhaps I like to do the tying too," she teased, and _oh_ that was also a nice image; the outlaw bound to a chair half naked whilst she did everything in her power to drive him to frustration...

Regina's hand slipped under her nightdress before she could process it, drawing feather light strokes that had her releasing a soft gasp before biting her lip.

"Well, Your Majesty," Robin drawled. "Now you seem to have created a small problem."

Regina chuckled. "'Small'?"

"Oh, I knew there was a reason I liked you," Robin remarked. "Though I'm sure thinking about what I could do to you is not as good as feeling it."

"It's certainly helping…"

Robin went quiet for a moment before inquiring; "Are you…?"

Regina paused, muttering a breathy ' _uh-huh'_ and grinning at the answering moan.

"Told you I could handle myself," she quipped.

Robin chuckled, "I'd prefer to do that myself, milady."

"If it makes you feel any better, I'd prefer you to be here too," she admitted, and she could just imagine the thief's lopsided smirk and dimples.

"As do I, Your Majesty," Robin stated, before lowering his voice and teasing; "then it would be your hands on me instead of my own."

Regina's curiosity piqued, her gaze turning hazy as she imagined the situation he was in and asked; "What are you doing?"

The thief didn't disappoint; "I'm stroking myself, thinking of you, thinking of how good you feel..."

Regina bit her lip, trying to hold back a moan and failing. She opened her mouth, preparing to say how good _he_ felt when he interrupted her.

"I want to kiss you."

Closing her eyes and smiling, Regina thought of the thief's kiss, but then suddenly felt a pang of longing for his lips on hers.

"Everywhere," he continued. "Your lips, your neck, your stomach, your thighs…"

"I'd like that," Regina breathed, thinking of something to say in return but getting interrupted-

"I love the way you taste, the way you kiss." Robin paused for a second before complimenting; "you're such a good kisser."

"You're not so bad yourself," Regina drawled, remembering times she'd spend staring at the thief's mouth and feeling his lips over her skin, his stubble setting her nerves alight as his tongue traced illegible patterns... "It's all I thought about for a while."

Robin hummed in interest. "Am I that irresistible?"

"Don't get too cocky, thief."

"When I think of you all I am is cocky..." he joked, before groaning and confessing, "you have no idea what you do to me."

The rough tone of his voice, the low, husky timber, had Regina's movements becoming more focused, the fingertips tracing uneven patterns over her slick flesh starting to draw circles around her clit. "Tell me."

"You wear all these outfits that drive me insane, always have…" he started. "The way they cling to you, push up your tits, showcase your arse... I don't know how anyone could ever concentrate around you. I couldn't get you out of my head."

"You've… Have you thought of me whilst doing this before?"

"Oh, more than once, milady," he admitted, not sounding even the slightest reserved at revealing such personal information. "Have you?"

"Might have," she stated, pausing before admitting; "several might haves, actually."

"And here was me thinking you hated me."

Regina chuckled, remembering her annoyance for the thief bordering between knocking him to the ground and fucking him into it. "You don't have to like someone to fantasize about screwing them."

"Point taken, milady."

There was quiet for a moment, where the only sounds either of them heard were heavy breaths and stifled moans as they thought about the other pleasuring themselves to the thought of them.

"Were there any fantasies in particular?" Regina asked, remembering one of her own that she had already half-fulfilled under the table during a certain council meeting.

"So many things…" Robin answered. "But that was when I didn't think I'd ever have you."

"Anything you'd want to try now you do?"

Robin paused, _hmmm-_ ing as he thought it over before he declared; "I want to do this again, but I want to be there, I want to watch you..."

"You wouldn't be able to not touch, Robin," Regina smirked. "You love to use your hands."

"I love the reaction I get out of you," he corrected, before drawling; "don't pretend you don't love it when I touch you."

Regina's lips parted on a gasp as the hand she had around the pendant tightened its grasp. "Well… Archers are known to be incredibly dexterous."

"I'm rather talented with my tongue too, milady."

She moaned in response.

"You like when I use my mouth on you?"

Regina _hmmm'd_ in affirmation, biting her lip and circling her fingers a little quicker at the thought. "Though I like using my mouth on you too."

Robin groaned, and Regina heard his breath hitch. "You're so good at that..."

"Just wait 'till you come back," Regina teased, chuckling at Robin's pained groan.

"You're making staying away very hard, Regina."

"I bet that's not the only thing I make hard," she quipped.

"You know damn well it isn't," Robin growled, drawing a grin from Regina's lips. "Though I'm willing to bet you're plenty wet right now."

Regina moaned, sliding her fingers further down and finding them coated in slickness before they even dipped into her entrance. "So wet," she breathed, stroking her rough inner wall as the heel of her palm ground against her clit.

"Fuck yourself harder," Robin ordered, his voice strained enough for Regina to know he was starting to get close.

With a groan, she complied, her breath hitching and coming out in short gasps as her fingers curled deeper, her hips lifting to meet the thrust of her hand. Robin's moan drew out one from her too, and Regina found herself biting her lip to stifle a whimper, her head grinding back into her pillows as her body started squirming.

It was when she bit back a moan that Robin spoke again, a warning ' _no'_ before he stated; "I want to hear you."

And so Regina let the next moan go free, smiling at Robin's breathy, " _that's it_."

For a few moments they exchanged gasps and moans and utterances of the other's name, altering their rhythms to suit the coiling tension within them. Regina's fingers withdrew back to her clit, pressing and rubbing quick circles that had her back arching off of her sheet and Robin's name leaving her lips in a breathy cry.

"Regina..." he moaned in return. " _Fuck_ , I need you..."

Lost in the sweeping tides of arousal, Regina didn't think twice about replying; "I need you too."

"Go... Go harder," Robin stammered, a groan leaving his throat the very next second.

Regina complied, suddenly so close and unable to utter anything more than a high, breathy, " _Robin_ -"

"Regina… I'm-"

Whatever else Robin was going to say was lost in his grunts, groans and curses, and then drowned out by the blood pounding in Regina's ears, her breathy cries getting stuck in her throat as her pleasure peaked.

The following moments were spent easing down from their high, regulating their breathing and heartrates until they were something resembling even.

"Well..." Regina started with a slight chuckle, "that was less awkward than I ever thought it'd be."

"I think I found my new favourite way of passing the time until I return."

"And to think you used to be so vehemently _against_ anything magical..." Regina quipped with a smirk.

"What can I say?" Robin chuckled. "You've changed my mind on a lot of things."

Regina paused, humming non-committedly as she chose not to read into any meanings.

"I look forward to returning," he added, filling in the conversational gap Regina created.

"As do I," she replied, adding a firm; "safe and sound." 

Robin sighed, and she could practically see the thief roll his eyes. "Stop worrying so much; I'll be fine. Trust me."

Regina shrugged, even if he couldn't see her, muttering; "m'kay."

"Promise?"

Regina let out a displeased scoff, but Robin spoke her name in a warning tone, and she rolled her eyes and smiled as she caved; "Okay, fine... I promise. Are you happy now?"

"Very," he answered, before saying; "and I promise I'll talk to you and Roland tomorrow."

"Look forward to it."

"I bet you do," he teased.

"Oh, shut up."

She almost missed his ' _goodnight'_ that was hidden behind his low chuckle.

And hers was whispered several moments after the pendant had stopped glowing.

…

The next day, Regina didn't collect Roland until lunch time - too busy enjoying the rare occurrence of sleeping in, and then spending a little time with the Charmings until their stupidity became too much for her to cope with. The boy was already impatient about talking with his father again, and so Regina had been extensively busy trying to keep the lad occupied.

She'd used up some of his energy by taking him into the castle grounds, spending a couple of hours picking flowers, chasing butterflies, playing hide and seek, and whatever other activity came into mind. Then as they were resting, they spent a little while baking, delving into the world of apple turnovers and igniting the boy's love for Storybrooke food. She'd even resorted to some under-hand tricks, distracting him with a colourful display of magic to make the transition into the evening less noticeable.

Time had still passed slowly. And Regina had stolen glances out the window as the sun set upon her grounds, casting an orange glow over the trees and grass as the birds sang. It was when the entire sky had turned dark and Roland had been forced to go to bed without speaking to his father that Regina started to worry about her thief.

It wasn't like Robin to go back on his word, at least not without dropping a quick explanation first. A simple ' _I'm fine, just more busy than expected_ ' would have sufficed. But she had heard nothing, he hadn't even responded when his son had tried to contact him first - not even when she had dropped warnings to ' _answer her if he knew what was good for him'._

So... To say the Queen was concerned would have been an understatement.

The thought of tracking him down entered her head, but goodness knows how that would look if she suddenly turned up full of worry and he was fine. There'd be no downplaying their relationship then. And then the thought of spying through her mirror occurred, but the thought of breaching his privacy like that irked her, and so she decided not to do that either.

She had promised that she'd trust him, trust that he'd be okay, and though she had such a strong urge to check on the thief, she had to believe that he'd be safe. He had faith in her abilities to protect herself, so she'd have faith in his.

He'd be fine.

He'd. Be. _Fine._

She'd go to sleep, spend another day with Roland tomorrow, and then she could worry about her thief and make plans tomorrow evening if they still hadn't heard from him.

Only sleep was hard to come by; her mind was whirring with endless scenarios that Robin could be in, none of them pleasant, and all worse than the previous.

She couldn't do this, she needed to focus on something else. She'd drive herself insane if she continued over-thinking.

So, when she should have been sleeping, Regina Mills found herself wandering around the castle, no clear destination in mind, just somewhere she could distract herself for a short while. 

For some reason she ended up at the room where all the liquor was kept. Though with a shrug of her shoulders she mused that alcohol wouldn't necessarily be a bad idea. In fact, it could rather work in her favour; distract her mind, lift her spirits, and make her sleepy enough to get into bed and go straight to sleep.

So... Alcohol it was.

At least, that was what she _intended._ But the moment she opened the door, she soon realised the room was already occupied.

"What are you doing in here?"

Friar Tuck looked up at her, a mug of something in his hand lifted partway up to his mouth.

"It's where the alcohol is," he stated, before continuing with his drink.

Regina crossed her arms in front of her. "This room is not intended for public use."

"Well, I needed a drink," he declared, before mumbling; "didn't really care where I got it from."

"Aren't you supposed to be minding Roland?"

"The boy's deep in slumber," he dismissed. "And I asked one of the fairies to stay with him for a while."

Regina narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Which one?"

"Does it matter?"

"As long as it's not Blue, no."

The Friar paused, frowning as he tried to remember who had volunteered to watch Robin Hood's little boy. "Well, she was wearing green, so..."

"Tinkerbelle," Regina stated, interrupting him, and at the Friar's confused frown she explained; "The fairy in green, her name is Tinkerbelle."

"Good for her."

Regina opened her mouth to deliver a retort, but then she saw the look on the man's face as he deflated. She paused for a moment, before softening her voice slightly and asking; "Rough night?"

He scoffed. "Not one of my favourites."

Regina could relate, and she before she could fully think it over, she was inquiring; "Room for another?"

The Friar looked at the Queen, a wary frown creasing his forehead, but still, he inclined his head towards the bench on the other side of the table and offered; "Go ahead."

With her head high she walked to the available seat, collecting a glass on the way. The moment she sat and scooted to the middle, she poured herself a heavy measure of whatever was on the table.

Friar Tuck looked impressed.

"So... What brings the Queen to drink with commoners?" he asked.

Regina paused after the first mouthful, slightly grimacing as the alcohol burned her throat before it soothed and warmed her from the inside. "Nothing..."

The Friar blinked and glared. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I don't believe you."

Regina sighed, her fingers subconsciously toying with the gemstone around her neck, "Robin's not answering."

"Perhaps he's busy," the Friar offered.

"Perhaps. I just... I have a bad feeling about it."

Friar Tuck nodded. "Are your feelings usually right?"

Her look told him all he needed to know.

"I'm sure he's fine. He's a tough lad; been through a lot and come out the other side just fine," he comforted, before adding; "he's a survivor. You'll see."

Regina offered the man a smile, taking another sip of her drink after she mumbled; "Thanks."

"You're welcome," he smiled back. "Though if you _really_ wanted to thank me then you'd keep supplying me with this. It's good stuff."

"I'm well aware," Regina remarked. 

She remembered the last night she had this specific brand of alcohol. Well… She _vaguely_ remembered.

Charming was being an ass - as per usual - and not shutting up about all the _heroic_ things he's done. And there was a few seconds' worth of memory where she was stumbling down the corridor with Snow, feeling more maternal towards the girl than she had in a long time. There was someone else too, a faceless person that she thought she threw a shoe at - but couldn't quite remember.

"Forgive me for intruding, Your Majesty," Friar Tuck started, interrupting the Queen trying to piece her memories together. "...But you and Robin seem to have become very close as of late, I was just-"

"Now that's not exactly any of your business, is it?" Regina quipped, wanting to shut the following conversation down before it went anywhere.

"Actually, it is," he challenged, ignoring the glare sent his way. "You see, I have seen my fair share of heartbreak - both from Robin Hood and from the people who came to me to seek religious advice - I have no desire to see any more."

"Robin will be fine."

"And you?"

"I'm no stranger to heartbreak either," she shrugged. "I'd rather steer clear of it."

"Is that what caused…This?" he asked, gesturing towards her - not even flinching at another glare directed at him. "As I've said; I've seen a lot of heartbreak, Your Majesty. I know what it can do to a person."

"A lot of things caused 'this'," she quipped, trying not to give in and soften at lack of judgement in his voice - and failing; "but heartbreak was certainly one of them."

"I'm sorry."

Regina's glare melted at his genuine smile, and she nodded her thanks before taking another large gulp of her drink.

"What about you?" she asked.

The Friar looked confused. "What about me?"

"Your drinking habits are not exactly a secret throughout this castle," Regina explained. "Was that heartbreak too?"

"Not exactly," he answered, taking a look at Regina's gaze before continuing; "I was expelled from St Mary's Abbey, and have never been allowed back into the church. It's rather unfortunate that what I love doing is impossible to me."

Regina nodded in acknowledgement, before inquiring; "Why were you expelled?"

"Apparently I 'didn't respect authority'," he spat. "Which is - as you Storybrooke folk say - 'bullshit'. I respect authority just fine, I just can't abide stupidity."

Regina couldn't help her smile, musing that her and the Friar had more in common than she originally thought.

"Here's to that," she declared, raising her glass towards him and grinning when he chuckled and clinked his drink with hers. And for a short time there was a comfortable silence between them.

"To say you're the Evil Queen, you're remarkably friendly," Tuck commented.

Regina laughed. "Trust me; 'friendly' is not a trait I possess."

"Yes, it is," he argued. "I don't think you are aware, but you have already gained the approval of half the Merry Men."

Regina frowned, blinking, as she tried to work out if she had misheard him. "What?"

"Obviously, Robin and Roland are quite smitten with you; George makes it no secret that he considers you a friend; Will has eventually come around despite his initial skepticism; and I wouldn't be drinking with you if I didn't like you."

Regina paused, unsure how to respond, spending a few moments trying to come up with something other than her mumbled, "thanks."

She settled on a teasing; "If I'd have known it'd only take alcohol to win you over, I could have done that months ago."

Tuck's booming laugh took longer than Regina would have thought to calm into chuckles. But then he sobered further before confessing; "it wasn't just the alcohol."

Regina frowned, taking another sip of her drink and finally feeling some of the fuzziness soothe her mind somewhat.

"I heard you converse with Roland earlier, as you were putting him to bed."

Regina bristled, feeling defensive about the Friar breaching what she thought was a private moment.

"I didn't mean to intrude," he continued, looking genuinely apologetic. "I just wanted to ensure the boy was okay."

"I'd never hurt him," Regina defended, her voice harsh, and the Friar was quick to soothe her.

"I know that. I know that now, seeing you with him, I..." Tuck shook his head, looking down to the table as he admitted; "I should never have doubted you."

"You were right to be wary," Regina conceded after a few seconds, before gesturing to herself; "Evil Queen and all that."

"No; Robin told us you weren't a threat - has done so right from the beginning - but we never really listened."

Regina stared into her drink. Robin couldn't have known that she wasn't a threat from when they first arrived at the castle. Hell, even _she_ didn't know that she wasn't a threat back then.

Once again, the thief's apparent faith in her left her a little stunned.

The Friar suddenly burst into laughter, right from the bottom of his rotund belly, and it's volume startled her.

"Did he ever tell you about that time he shot himself in the foot?"

"Robin?" she asked, shaking her head when Tuck answered in the affirmative. "By doing what?"

"No, he _literally_ shot himself in the foot."

"How the hell did he manage that?" Regina asked once her burst of laughter had subsided. "He's one of the finest archers in the Kingdom."

"Oh, is _that_ what he tells you?" He chuckled, before leaning forwards and conspiratorially whispering; "Let me tell you some stories about the ' _great and legendary Robin Hood_ '."

Regina laughed, topping up their glasses and feeling as if they were in for a very long night.

...

Over a couple of hours later, the duo were about ready to pass out. Tuck was much heavier than he looked - which was already a _lot -_ and Regina could barely even support the arm he had around her shoulders as they walked in the direction of their chambers.

The Friar would occasionally stumble, and Regina was more than ready to let him land flat on his face than try to catch him; she'd end up imprinted into the floor.

The Queen would occasionally burst into fits of giggles, remembering tales of pranks and nicknames and _oh_ how she wanted to rub it in Robin's face when he returned. And after learning about the whole arrow incident - where he had been proving ' _what goes up must come down'_ and had forgotten to move out of the way - Regina would never let him hear the end of it. It made for suitable bargaining material. Though what she'd be bargaining _for_ she had no idea.

When they passed Friar Tuck's room she practically pushed him into the door, assuring him that she could look after Roland the next day - he'd be too busy nursing his inevitable hang-over from drinking twice as much as she had - and that she'd tell one of the kitchen staff to send some medication in the morning that would soothe his alcohol-induced illness.

The Friar had grunted in acknowledgement before going into his room, a deep 'thud' indicating he had just collapsed onto his bed and would stay there until he deemed it necessary to move.

Regina couldn't help but check on Roland before she left to go to her own room, peeking around the door and smiling at the sight of him tucked in with the stuffed monkey she gave him the day she met him, curls wild about his head and a comforting thumb in his mouth. Tink was laying atop Robin's bed covers, merely a thin sheet covering her, and Regina's smile turned into a grin.

She wished them both a silent 'sweet dreams' before making her way to her own chambers, and this time, when she closed her eyes to sleep, the only thoughts of her thief were his laughter and smiles.

…

The next morning, Regina woke up with a dry mouth and a niggling headache, but it was mainly bearable, and the thought of spending time with Roland as a distraction lifted her spirits considerably.

Though the notion of donning corsets and capes filled her with a sense of dread, and so she settled for a leather pair of trousers and a red coat, letting her black, lace underwear peek out of the low neckline. It'd do. She looked good and she was comfy. And nothing of importance was happening that day anyway.

When she peeked into Roland's room, things were a lot more hectic than the previous night; the boy was leaping from his father's bed into the waiting arms of Tinkerbell, both of them bubbling with laughter and squeals.

Regina winced. Perhaps spending time with a child and an excitable fairy was not the best thing to do after consuming copious amounts of alcohol the night before.

"You two having fun?" Regina asked, putting a stop to the noisy fun.

They both nodded emphatically before Roland ran towards the desk, grabbed something, and brought it back to show Regina.

"Look! Look! Tink can draw butterflies."

"That she can, my dear," Regina smiled.

Roland nodded, before frowning, looking to Regina and loudly whispering; "though not as good as you."

Tink shouted out an indignant " _Hey!_ " and Regina glared at her. But then her attention was drawn back to Roland, listening intently as he retold the bedtime story that Tinkerbell told him, about a fairy who couldn't fly until she believed in herself...

Tinkerbell turned and sat on the edge of Robin's bed, watching Regina and the boy with a smile. It wasn't often the Queen's eyes lit up the way they did now. The only time Tink ever remembered seeing Regina like that was when she spoke of her son in Neverland, or when she spotted them in Granny's sharing a milkshake... Obviously with Henry not being in the Enchanted Forest with them, Tink was worried about how the Queen would cope, whether she'd even have a reason to smile. But watching her with Roland... Regina lit up. The plaguing darkness that hung around her was nothing compared to the lightness the boy brought out in her.

It was a beautiful sight to see her so happy.

The door opening brought the trio's attention to the man stood in the doorway. The bald, rotund, jolly man Regina had the pleasure of sharing a drink with the previous night - that looked as if the last thing he wanted to be doing was standing there.

"Didn't think you'd be up yet," she joked, her easy smile fading when the man didn't even blink.

"May I have a word?" he asked, and an uneasy feeling took residence in Regina's stomach.

She turned back to Tinkerbell, asking; "would you mind taking care of Roland for a short while longer?"

The fairy assured her it was fine, and Regina made her way over to the Friar.

"What?" she asked, not comforted at all by the way he beckoned her outside of the room and closed the door behind her.

"What?" she asked again, patience running thin.

"The search party has returned."

"Already? But they weren't due back for..." Regina trailed off as reality caught up. "What happened?"

"There was an attack," Tuck stated. "Zelena's apes... They-"

"Any casualties?"

Friar Tuck's mouth set in a grim line. "Four are dead, three more are missing."

Regina’s heart dropped, the simple, innate task of inflating her lungs with oxygen paused, coming second to her next inquiry; “Robin?”

“I'm afraid I don’t know, Your Majesty. Although knowing Robin as well as I do…” Friar Tuck paused, taking in a deep breath before stating; “He’s a man of honour, Regina, and knowing his stance on leaving men behind, I’m afraid I’m not holding much hope.”

Regina felt her breath leave her.

Oh god,

_Robin..._


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends.  
> So, as some of you may be aware, Knocking Hips is two years old today, and a poll on twitter decided that an update would be the best present for you all. And so (a couple of hours past midnight, but oh well) here is your gift for sticking with me.  
> Now then, this chapter kind of comes at a bad time in regards to the events in the show, and so I shall warn you that this will likely scratch at still-healing wounds, and I completely understand if some people want to put off reading this until they’re ready.  
> Anyways, that’s all, hope you all enjoy the feels-fest that is Chapter 20.  
> Mwah

 

The journey down to where the men were being treated in the main hall was filled with so many thoughts Regina couldn’t even hope to keep track. Her mind was constantly flittering between preparing for the worst and hoping for the best. And whilst she was no naïve princess, the worst case scenario had her chest tightening until it was difficult to breathe.

She should have checked on him, she should have made sure that Robin was okay. Instead she had been too busy distracting his son and sharing drinks with his friend, playing family and pretending everything was fine. She had felt something was wrong, and yet had pushed it aside, ignored it, because that was what Robin had asked her to do; trust that he could take care of himself.

_Well just look how that had turned out..._

Now Regina had to fix whatever damage she could, heal anyone that had made it back, and make funeral preparations for those who hadn't.

She didn't know who had been lucky enough to return, neither did Friar Tuck; he'd gotten the quick summary from a palace guard, and then - knowing Regina would want to know everything as soon as possible - found her and told her all that he knew, leaving their walk to the main hall bereft of conversation and weighed down with heavy silence.

Everything _Robin_ was filtering through Regina's head. All the little things of his that she had gotten used to and now may never have again; his kind eyes that filled her with warmth, his smug smirk that she wanted to kiss away, his passionate touch that both set her aflame and made her feel safe…

She could lose it all. Lose _him._

The commotion from the main hall was heard long before they could see the crowd milling about outside the entrance - though the group soon parted when they saw the Queen storming towards them, a look in her eyes warning anybody who dared stand in her path that they would be crushed to dust within seconds.

For all their hurried racing down corridors, the Queen and Friar Tuck halted after only a few steps into the room as their eyes scanned the carnage. Along both the left and right walls were those who had been injured, some were conscious and cradling whatever ailment they possessed, some were unconscious and had several healers surrounding them, and in the far right corner were four bodies covered in white sheets, mourning families huddled around them.

"This is hell," Tuck breathed from beside her, but Regina paid him no mind, her entire focus solely being used to find Robin.

Her eyes flittered over the people in the room, stopping long enough to group them into 'Robin' or 'Not-Robin' - and every person she saw fell into the latter category. With each passing second where the possibility of losing him became ever-so-real, it became exponentially more difficult to perform the simple task of inhaling air into her lungs.

"Is he here?" Tuck asked, unaware that the woman beside him was frantically trying to answer that herself - and at that moment she was only coming up with one response; he wasn't there.

He wasn't there. He wasn't there. He was…

_There._

The crowd parted and Regina caught a glimpse of Robin, standing, breathing, alive, and the pure panic that had consumed her started to fade away, having her masking a relieved sigh as Tuck set about spotting the rest of his men.

As breathing became easier, Regina's swirling concoction of emotions dissipated, leaving only her residual anger in its wake. The Queen called upon all the strength that she had to stay reasonably calm, to not make a scene, to pretend that she had not just spent the entire journey there convinced she had lost someone else that she cared about.

It didn't work.

Storming up to Robin, fire in her eyes, Regina tore the amulet from around her neck, holding it up to him. “You stole this for a reason!”

Robin turned to her, looking pale and haggard, and if she wasn't furious with him Regina would have backed down and stowed her temper.

But she was. _Oh so furious_.

How _dare_ he put her through that? Let her think the worst without even letting her know he was alright. That's what he stole the damn pendant for!

“I know…” he started, but he didn't get much further before Regina was interrupting him.

“Well then why didn’t you _use_ it?”

“I tried!"

“Well you didn’t try hard enough,” she spat, clenching her jaw.

Robin ran a hand through his hair in frustration, barely hiding his pained grimace at the movement but yet still retorting with a gruff; “Regina, I called for you; you didn’t answer.”

“I had this around my neck the _entire time,_ Robin! If you called I would’ve answered.”

“Well it obviously didn’t work,” he snapped. “And if you are done arguing with me _, your majesty,_ I need to go and try to help my men. I’ve lost enough friends today.”

And with that he brushed past her with enough force to have her taking a step back to regain her balance, and leaving Regina with a pounding heart and tears stinging her eyes.

He didn't know the hell he had just put her through. He _couldn't_ know. Hell, even _she_ didn't know that the thought of losing him would be so paralysing until it actually became a possibility. It was a fight to get her body back under control, her eyes dry, her heartbeat steady, her breathing even… But when she had felt composed enough to turn and face the rest of the chaos inside the hall, she realised she had to push her feelings about Robin aside. She could focus on him later; right now, she had work to do.

…

For all the protesting that the Merry Men had originally had regarding her magic before they set off on this damn quest, they were sure as hell willing to utilise it now. There were a few wary looks and quiet whispers to begin with, but after they witnessed her bringing Much the Miller's son out of his coma, they realised she wasn't a threat and had all but pleaded with her to help them.

Little John had gratefully thanked her for healing the clawmarks from Zelena's apes upon his back and the broken ankle he sustained, Dave had mumbled thanks after she healed his snapped wrist, Will Stutely had enveloped her in a hug after she fixed the head injury that had left him deadweight for half the journey back to the castle.

Alan-a-Dale, however, seemed much less enthusiastic about receiving help, having already started to make peace with his injuries.

"I doubt it's something even _you_ can fix, Your Majesty," he had said as she had knelt by his side.

"I think you underestimate how powerful I actually am," Regina stated, before asking; "now, are you going to let me help or not?

With a dejected sigh, Alan shifted and removed his right arm from where it had been cradled to his chest, holding it up to Regina so she could see what had happened.

Her eyes trailed up his arm, a few tears in the fabric of his sleeve edged in red, and dark smudges from dirt and grass where the fabric was in tact. But as Regina's eyes caught sight of extra cloth that had been tied tight around his forearm, and she raised her gaze to where she was expecting his hand to be bloodied and injured, she was momentarily taken aback when she realised that there was no hand there at all.

Well... That made things a little more difficult.

"Ah..."

"Still think you can fix me, _Your Majesty?_ " Alan asked, and Regina bristled at his tone.

"I happen to know someone who is perfectly happy with having a hook for a hand who would disagree about needing to be 'fixed'," Regina sniped. "But if you are wanting your hand back I suggest you talk to me with a little more respect."

Alan opened his mouth to retort, then wisely closed it again.

“Do you have your hand?”

He held up the cloth wrapped stump with an incredulous look. “No. That’s the whole point.”

Regina rolled her eyes, looking around him on the floor. “I mean do you have the hand _with you_?”

“No. Why?”

Regina shuffled forwards, bringing Alan's arm to rest over her lap as she informed him; “reattachment is a lot easier than regrowth.”

She looked up at the man and noted the hope in his eyes, hoping to God that she had not just promised him that which she could not deliver. But she was determined, and had learned enough from preparing to heal Will Stutely the previous month to believe that she could do this.

She could do this.

Unwrapping the ties holding the bloodied cloth in place, Regina gingerly peeled away the fabric to reveal the mess that his wrist was in. A clean wound would have been better, but she could do this. She _could_.

Moving her hands so one was above his wrist and one was below, she paused to warn Alan; "this may hurt."

"Everyone's already hurting, Your Majesty," he pointed out, glancing towards the corner where those who had not made it back alive were lying, and Regina inclined her head to sombrely agree.

"Try to keep still," Regina advised, before she called forth the magic brewing underneath her skin and set to work creating a new hand.

Halfway through the process, Much had managed to slowly make his way to sit down next to them, offering support for both of them as Alan let out pained groans through gritted teeth and Regina's brow furrowed in discomfort and effort as she put all of her energy into helping his friend.

At the first ghostly outline of a hand, a small smile tugged at the corners of Regina's mouth, and then as the colour grew in appearance with each pulse of purple magic, the strength and power required took hold and faded her surroundings into blackness, awareness only returning to her when Much placed a hand on her arm and told her it was done.

"You... You did it..." Alan stammered, and Regina had to blink a few times for the room to stop spinning, but yes, yes she had. "I don't know how... I mean I... Thank you."

Regina met Alan's gaze, half tempted to chuckle at the wonder and disbelief in his eyes. But instead, she smiled, raised a brow and teased; "I told you not to underestimate me."

"That you did," he agreed. "And it is something I shall remember always."

"And I," Much spoke from next to him, with a grateful smile from ear to ear.

"Glad to hear it."

After a few last checks to ensure his hand was alright - stretching out his fingers, making a fist, gently rotating his wrist - Regina started preparing to stand.

"One last thing," she added. "No strenuous activity with that hand for a while. No archery. No heavy lifting. No fast movements."

Alan reluctantly nodded, but Much found something amusing and couldn't help but snort out a laugh. "You'll have to find yourself a woman, Alan."

"I have two hands, you idiot,” he joked back, before realising he was in the presence of a Queen and looking rather embarrassed as he mumbled; “pardon me, Your Majesty.”

“I've heard much worse," she assured them with a chuckle, before taking on a serious tone as she ordered; "if there are any problems come and see me.”

When Much snorted again, Regina hastily clarified; “regarding the healing of your hand. Any other issues are _not_ my problem.”

"Understood," Alan nodded with a grin.

After a final ' _thank you_ ' from the two men in front of her, Regina stood and made her way over to the knights which had returned, hoping she had enough energy within her to heal them too.

...

When Robin entered his and his son's room, he was slightly unnerved to find a woman with blonde hair curled up on his bed next to his son. But he had remembered seeing her around the castle, and he had taught Roland enough to trust his instincts when it came to judging people's true heart. And when he saw his son being so enamoured with the story she was reading to him that he hadn't even noticed his father was standing in the doorway, Robin's immediate distrust of the woman faded into the background and he focussed on his little boy.

The mere sight of him had Robin swallowing back a sob, and he knew that the hug he needed would be his downfall.

He couldn't allow his son to see him like this, bloodied and bruised and grieving. He just wanted to see for himself that Roland was safe and well. Before anything else.

Though the thought of climbing into bed and spending a few days away from the world sounded like a good idea right about now, shutting everything and everyone out until he had pieced himself back together once again. But he couldn't do that, not to Roland, not to his remaining men, and not to Regina...

And so he took a few steps back and stayed in the shadows for a while, observing his son and drawing energy from the knowledge that he was okay, that whatever had happened, the person he loved most in the world was safe and sound - and giggling at a woman's impression of a dragon and pretending to breathe fire.

He was so intent on watching his son living and breathing that he didn't hear the quiet footsteps behind him until their owner cleared their throat and announced their presence.

"Robin?"

When he turned and saw Regina standing in front of him, he couldn't help but automatically feel defensive; their little quarrel in the main hall had taken a lot of his energy, and he wasn't sure he could cope with another disagreement with her.

Though Regina saw him raise his guards in order to talk to her, and she didn't want that, she _never_ wanted that, and so she did the first thing she could think of to make him feel comfortable around her again.

"I'm sorry."

In any other circumstances the Queen would have laughed at the mild shock on his face from hearing her apologise, but here and now, she was too busy trying not to reach out and hold him, knowing that whilst he was guarded around her it would do no good.

"About what I said in the main hall... You were going through a lot, and the last thing you needed was me being... Me." Regina chanced a glance up to Robin, finding his stern gaze directed elsewhere and his jaw clenched, and added; "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Robin snapped back, taking a second to reign in his anger before looking at Regina, and upon seeing her eyes downcast and a pained frown on her face, realising perhaps he was being too harsh on her. "But I forgive you."

Regina nodded once, her lips upturning in her attempt at a smile before the weight of the situation dragged them back into reality again.

Robin looked torn. His forlorn expression tugged at Regina’s heart, and her hands itched with the urge to try and magic some of his pain away; his physical wounds she could heal, at least. That is if he let her; he was nothing if not stubborn in his tendency to refuse magical aid unless it was absolutely necessary. And Regina was all too aware of the urge to dwell in pain; her methods of coping usually involved making others suffer or putting herself under a curse. Neither of which she’d ever let Robin resort to.

She swallowed, biting her lip, feeling the weight of the silence pushing Robin further into himself.

"How are you holding up?" Regina asked, trying to draw him back to her.

"About as well as can be expected, I should think," he replied, raising his shoulders in a half-assed shrug and so obviously attempting to put on a brave front.

But he didn't need that, not with Regina. They had shared too much to believe the other when they were pretending not to be hurting. And for the very few times that he had seen her break down over the loss of her son, sitting next to her and offering words of comfort, a shoulder to cry on, or a hand to hold, he deserved to have someone who would be there for him too.

"Robin..." she started, intent on telling him as much. But he shook his head, and closed his eyes, and the heartbreak on his face had her words stuck in her throat.

"I let him down, Regina," Robin spoke, his voice pained and constricted. "I should have done more to protect him."

"Don't do that," Regina ordered as she stepped forward, placing a hand on Robin’s arm and trying to ensure that he was listening to her. "You cannot blame yourself for what happened."

"But..."

"No 'buts'," she interrupted, pausing a moment and trying to figure out the best way to get through to him, and decided on her honest bluntness. "The last thing George would have wanted is for you to be beating yourself up over his passing."

The mere mention of Robin's friend had him choking back a sob and scrunching his eyes shut.

George had fought valiantly, vanquishing many a winged beast until there were but a few left. But as Robin had been fending off one monster, another had set about attacking an incapacitated Little John, and the leader of the Merry Men had been powerless to stop George jumping in front of it.

They had fought, a few screeches from the ape, a few cries from George, but it was only after Robin defeated the enemy in front of him - with a few extra fractures and bruises to add to his list - that he realised how much his friend was struggling. The fight had fatigued him, fatigued them all; they had lost knights that they had become friends with, seen men they had known for years getting thrown to the ground like toys, and it was finally taking a toll on those who remained fighting.

Robin was halfway across the clearing when a quick swipe of the monkey's claws had George falling to the ground, another quick swipe making sure the man would never rise from it, before it screeched in some warped victory cry and began to fly away.

But Robin was quicker, nocking an arrow in his bow and setting it free to embed itself in the creature in the sky, then nocking another, and another, and another, until his quiver was empty and the ape who had killed his friend was lying on the ground with more holes than his old tunic.

Robin had lost a good man. A very good man; one of his best.

George was not the only fatality, but he was the one Robin felt most keenly. The weight of loss clung to Robin like a second skin that was slightly too tight, constricting his chest until it was too hard to breathe. But as Robin looked at Regina’s face, seeing her pinched expression and watery eyes, he realised that it was not only him who had lost a good friend that day.

“I’m sorry, are you alright? I know you and George were…”

Regina shook her head to quiet his words, stepping closer and putting a hand on his cheek. “I came here for _you_ , Robin.”

Regina didn’t need Robin’s comfort and kind words; she was used to loss, had dealt with it all her life as one-by-one the people she loved were torn away from her, until she was hardened and consumed by darkness. But Robin had a constant light in his eyes and heart, put there by those who cared about him. Losing a part of that light… Regina knew how keenly it was felt.

It took all of three seconds before Robin crumpled, a hand coming up to try and mask the sobs he’d kept in all afternoon.

Feeling her lower lip begin to tremble, Regina removed her hand from his face, placing her arms around his shoulders and stepping into him, rising to her toes before making her grip just that little bit tighter. Robin’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her so tight against him that his fingertips brushed his own dirty, blood-stained shirt. He let out a ragged breath and buried his face in her shoulder, tears dampening the fabric of her coat.

Regina's fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, her other hand following a soothing pattern up and down his back in an attempt at offering even a semblance of comfort. But the events of the day had been building inside of him, his need to stay strong and lead his men offering a temporary distraction from the hurt and pain, and now that it was just them there was nothing to stop it from taking over.

It took a while for Robin's sobs to subside and for his breathing to become less haggard, enough time for the stray tears that had manage to escape down Regina's cheeks to dry. Her fingers were still threading through strands of Robin's hair, her hand still making comforting passes along his spine, her heart still reaching out to try and ease his pain.

But Robin started withdrawing, easing his hold on her as he started to piece himself back together, pausing for one last deep breath before he stood straight again. One hand remained on Regina's waist as the other wiped away any trace of his breakdown on his face.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, not quite able to lift his gaze from the floor.

Regina raised a hand to cup his cheek, offering a comforting smile as she assured him; "you shouldn't be."

Robin's eyes met Regina's for a couple of seconds, long enough for him to place his own hand on her cheek before he was closing his eyes and bringing her forehead to rest against his. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Regina responded, and then Robin had tilted her chin up to press his lips against hers in a chaste kiss, waiting a second before capturing her lips again for another one.

It was the third kiss that he deepened, finding comfort in the way his surroundings would melt away and all he would be left with was this marvellous woman and her ability to make him feel whole again.

She pulled away all too soon, but she barely managed to breathe out his name before he was pulling her back to him, refusing to lose the sense of grounding that she gave him.

"Robin..." she tried again the moment her lips were free, raising her hands to his chest and gently pushing to put a few inches of space between them. "Perhaps this isn't the right time for-"

"Regina, please..." Robin started, resting his forehead against hers again as his hands moved to rest on her hips. "I need this."

"You're hurting," Regina pointed out, willing to voice more reasons why now probably wasn't the best time to reconnect before he stopped her...

"Not when I'm with you."

How was she supposed to continue her argument now? He had rendered her mind blank and knees weak, and any intention that she had to put some space between them so they could grieve faded, leaving her left with the urge to lose herself in him too.

The soft press of his lips to hers sealed the deal. His hands trailed up her sides, past her shoulders until they were on her neck, his thumbs traced her jawline, and she surrendered unto him.

His kisses soon turned desperate, an arm wrapping around Regina and pulling her closer to him, holding her as if she was the only thing keeping him tethered to the ground he was standing on.

Regina could feel his wince whenever there was too much pressure on his chest, a slight bite to her lip whenever her hands brushed over his wounds, but his touch was still gentle, tracing along her jawline and then burying into her hair, twisting strands around his fingers before he withdrew them to the ends.

It was when Robin's other hand trailed down to grope at her backside and one - or both - of them released a moan, that Regina realised perhaps they weren't in the most appropriate of places.

His son was in a room a few feet away, as was her friend, and this was neither the time nor the place for any questions from them should they be discovered. And so a quick flick of Regina's wrist had them moving to her chambers, appearing a mere meter away from the foot of her bed.

Being no stranger to Regina's magic now, Robin continued kissing her, stealing her breath with swipes of his tongue and drags of his teeth as she started unfastening the buttons on his shirt. It only took a second after she had finished before she was breaking their kiss, looking down at his torso, cataloguing his wounds - and letting out an audible gasp.

Her hand rose, fingers gingerly tracing over a cut on his chest, though they quickly retreated when he hissed between gritted teeth.

"Regina..."

“I can heal them,” she stated, prepared to do just that before Robin hooked a finger under her chin to return her gaze to his.

“Not now,” Robin mumbled, his hands sliding over her body as he leaned forward to capture her lips with his.

Despite the urge to clear his chest of battle marks, Regina's primary thought became simply how _good_ his lips felt, and how much she had _missed this_. And for a brief moment she forgot everything else, one hand tangling in his hair to keep the angle of their kiss just how she liked it, her other rising to feel the heat of his skin under her palm.

But upon another wince from Robin she broke contact - vowing to not let him sweep her off of her feet until she had eased his pain. 

He knew of her intentions, mumbled “ _I’m fine_ ,” before cupping the back of her head and pulling her mouth to meet his.

However, Regina refused to bed him when she was going to be worried about hurting him with every movement; she had made a vow to heal those who had returned from that stupid quest to find her half-sister, and that included Robin.

She was going to heal every cut, soothe every bruise, magic away every single mark upon his body that Zelena's apes had put there, and then she was going to take him until the world fell away and it was just the two of them left.

He didn't have a choice in the matter.

Regina hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trousers, pulling him with her the two steps needed for her to sit on the foot of the bed, and then gently pushing to halt his desire to crawl over her. He stood before her, an obvious irritation on his face, but she paid it no mind and set about healing each mark on his torso.

She managed a bruise next to his navel and a graze on his bicep before she gave in to the urge to seal each one with the press of her lips to his skin.

Robin reached for her elbow, trying to draw her up to him, and huffing when she twisted her arm out of his grasp and healed a shallow gash to his stomach instead. "What are you doing?"

Regina paused, looking up at him for a split second before returning her gaze back to her task, trying to appear nonchalant when she stated; "I'm taking care of you."

"I don't need-"

"Yes, you do," she glared, taking a moment to heal a bruise on his collarbone before sitting straight and asking; "where else are you injured?"

She held his gaze, daring him to defy her, but it was obvious that the outlaw just didn't have the strength to do so.

"My side," he admitted. "I think there are a few scratches there."

"Which side?"

Robin turned, lifting his arm and shirt so she could see.

' _A few scratches' my ass,_ Regina thought. There were four deep gouges from his left shoulder blade all the way down to his hip.

She healed them, trailing a finger from the start of the cuts to the ends, watching as the scores knitted themselves back together as she went. She still couldn't help but press a kiss to his skin after the first had been healed, and the second. She was part way through the third when Robin tried to turn around, ignoring his skin healing in favour of trying to lose himself in Regina.

She stopped him. "You need to let me heal you."

"I don't need that," Robin growled. "I just need..."

"Robin, please... Let me help." They both held firm, glaring at each other's stubbornness before Regina bargained; "then I'm all yours, I promise."

With a reluctant nod, Robin agreed, and allowed her to continue the work she was doing before.

One of her hands gathered the material of his shirt and held it high up his back, her other hand soothing over his injuries.

Regina couldn't help her mind wandering, a frustrated ' _how did this even happen to him?'_ being answered with a curt ' _he met you.'_ It had her heart dropping, a deflated sigh escaping her when she realised it was the truth; had he never met her he would have been running around the forest with his son and breaking into castles with his men. It was her sister's vendetta that had Robin hurt. That and his absolute code of honour to stick by her side. What good was honour if it only led to fighting battles nobody could win?

But then a small part of her, a traitorous, selfish part of her, pointed out that Robin was fighting for _her._ He had seen something from the very start in her poisoned barbs and cutting insults that he felt was worthy to fight for. She had never had that before. Never had someone willing to fight whatever beasts plagued her simply because they cared.

She was lucky to have him. So incredibly lucky.

The moment she had finished healing the skin on his back, she dropped his shirt and stood, walking around to his front and kissing him before he even had the chance to look at the emotions swimming in her eyes.

With most of the visible injuries healed, Robin felt a lot less tense when he pulled her against him, his hands running over her, from her shoulders to her hips, from her waist to her thighs, his possessive grasp having her pressing against him even harder.

His teeth dragged over her lower lip, her fingers dug into his shoulders, Regina feeling that slickness between her thighs when Robin groped her backside, and Robin hardening against her when she moaned and responded in kind. Allowing a couple of inches between them, Robin moved one of his hands to his front, deftly untying the laces holding his trousers around his waist and letting them pool to the floor. Regina pushing his shirt to join them not a few seconds later.

A dainty hand on Robin's newly healed chest pushed him back, continuing to push until his knees hit the bed and he was sat where Regina had been. He still couldn't hide his wince at the movement, and Regina resigned herself to healing wherever she had missed.

There was a bruise high upon his ribs, near his sternum, and as she hovered her hand over it she realised the bone underneath the skin was fractured. Regina rolled her eyes. _Honestly_ , could he not have just _told_ her? Did he have to try and shoulder all this by himself? It wouldn't do him any good. She was just trying to help, hated to see him hurt.

His breathing came easier when her magic faded away, and hers came easier when a final sweep over his torso revealed no other ailments.

Though there was one patch of his skin that was hidden; a section of his forearm that was covered with the coat of arms that Roland had drawn a while back for each of the Merry Men. It had a few spots on blood on it, the top edge of the fabric slightly frayed, a smudge or two of dirt over the boy's drawing of a tree...

Regina reached to undo the knot tying it, but Robin quickly grasped her wrists.

"Don't," he ordered, before softening and explaining; "Roland tied that on before I left, and I promised him he could remove it when I returned safe."

Regina couldn't help the moisture that gathered in her eyes at the thief's relationship with his son. She couldn't imagine how difficult it must have been for the young boy.

Her fingertips gently traced over the fabric before she nodded and ran her fingers up and over the palms of his hands, leaning forward to capture his lips in a kiss. But a second before she reached him, Robin winced and quickly withdrew his left hand from under hers, bringing it to his chest.

"What is it?" Regina asked, sitting up astride his waist again as she took his hand in her own.

It didn't take a doctor to work out that he had fractured his little finger; from the first joint upwards his skin had a blue tone to it, and whilst the other fingers were bent, that last one remained straight.

With a sigh at yet another injury he hadn't told her about, she smoothed her fingers over his fracture,

"You need to tell me what injuries you have so I can heal them," Regina ordered, before she softened and explained; "I don't want to hurt you."

Robin's hands trailed up to rest on her thighs, his voice low and honest when he declared; "I don't want to be apart from you any longer."

"Then just tell me what I want to know."

"I have a painful bruise on my right thigh," he sighed, but Regina lifted her brow and waited until he ended up confessing; "and another scratch on my left calf."

Regina started to shift but then stopped, returning to where she was and narrowing her eyes at him, until Robin deflated and admitted a final; "And I pulled a muscle in my shoulder."

Resuming her mission to heal every damage inflicted upon him, Regina pushed herself back up and off the bed, lowering herself to her knees in front of him, and completely _not_ focussing on how different her intentions had been the last time she'd been in this position.

She healed the scratch on his calf, then headed for the bruise on the inside of his thigh, letting her magic flow into his skin and repair the burst blood vessels. She still couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the healed injuries, a part of her smirking when his member twitched when she moved high up his thigh.

One of his hands threaded into her hair, cupping the back of her head and guiding her to where he wanted her.

Regina smirked, licking her lips and planning to turn his world upside down with her mouth, but instead he guided her up his torso, letting her pause to press wet kisses to his skin before he claimed her lips with his.

She met his kiss with fervour, barely having enough conscious thought to heal the ache he mentioned in his shoulder before she let him pull her deeper into his embrace. She could get lost in him, truly. Get lost in his magical kisses and passionate touch and perfect eyes.

Regina pulled back, chancing a glance into those eyes and getting swept away in a sea of blue. She vowed to memorise them, picture them whenever she needed to escape from the world, catalogue every emotion behind them whilst she had the chance...

Her overly sentimental train of thought had her internally chastising herself, but then she was reaching for him, and he was reaching for her, far more important things to be doing than simply gazing into each other's eyes.

There were also far more important things to be doing than wearing clothes; Robin's touch trailed around to her front, his finger hooking into the low neckline of her coat as he murmured; "I need to see you."

And then he gave an extra tug on her coat for good measure.

With a smirk Regina sat atop him, unfastening the laces keeping her coat wrapped around her and letting the red fabric slide down her shoulders. The shifting required to remove it and throw it somewhere behind her drew a low groan from the man underneath her, and her smirk broadened. 

Left in just her leather trousers and a layer of black lace covering her torso, Regina felt the desire to shift atop him again, purposely circling her hips as she swept her hair off of her neck and piled it atop her head. The sight had Robin licking his lips before groaning, sitting up to place kisses across the black lace, occasionally catching it between his teeth when he started leaving gentle bites across the warm flesh.

His hands quickly dropped to her hips, gathering the material in his hands and pushing it upwards, breaking contact with her for the few moments it took for it to be removed and thrown to match the coat behind her.

Robin's mouth descended to her chest, his hands splayed across her back to support Regina when his path travelled lower and his leaning forward forced her to recline back. With the new range of movement he wasted no time in starting to kiss and lick and suck at her stiff peaks, occasionally letting his teeth scrape across the surrounding flesh and drawing a moan from the base of Regina's throat.

Her hips started rocking against his, slow drags that had them both releasing harsher breaths and infrequent groans, but with the leather of Regina's trousers an unwelcome layer separating them, it didn't take long before the sensation wasn't enough and she wanted nothing between them.

Shuffling backwards on the bed so she could remove her leather trousers and underwear, Regina watched as Robin's eyes roamed the newly exposed flesh. She always felt desired when he looked at her in such a way, always felt beautiful. And she found herself making a show of the swing of her hips as she worked the material down her legs, smirking at his bitten off groan.

When she crawled forward again, Robin shifted back with her, making it halfway up the bed until she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him to lie back down.

She trailed another row of kisses up his torso, and perhaps she lingered a little when she felt the strong heartbeat of her archer under her lips, but she didn't consciously note anything of the sort. And it wasn't as if her mind was focussed on her movements when Robin's hand was sliding deliciously across the skin of her thighs, heading to where she was wet and waiting. The first touch across the swollen flesh was so light that it had a shiver running through her, her fingernails digging into his chest a little harsher for a moment before she was releasing and resuming her task of mapping his body with her touch.

For all of Robin's insistence that she wasted none of their time in healing him, he seemed remarkably content with trading lazy kisses, of leisurely tracing her skin and slowly working her up with gentle passes over the bundle of nerves between her thighs. But Regina was unaware that _this_ was all he wanted; the closeness and ease in which they spent time with each other, the familiarity found in each other's embrace that made him feel as if they had been together for a lifetime.

This was enough. She was enough. She always would be.

Robin hadn't realised how difficult it would have been to be separated from her until he had to be. He'd had no idea how much he would have missed her, how much he would have wanted her over their five days apart. He vowed to never be apart from her for that long again. Not without putting up one hell of a fight.

And yes, Robin was aware that five days was not too long a time to be separated from a person, but when it felt as if one's entire soul was yearning for someone else, every second without them was such a hardship.

So, here he was, savouring every single second of the contact he had been missing so dearly; her lips against his, her skin against his, her body against his...

But it was when she started rocking her hips against him, when she was feeling slicker with every grind, that simply having her against him didn't seem quite as fulfilling as it had been, and Robin found himself wanting _more_.

The moan she released into his shoulder when he started meeting her every movement was positively sinful, and had his hand rising to tangle in her hair, encouraging her to continue leaving a trail of soft bites up his neck. His other hand trailed down her back, gripping and kneading at the flesh of her ass and guiding her down harder against him - drawing out yet another groan from the woman above.

She broke away from him with a whispered ' _God...',_ pushing herself up into a sitting position atop him and trailing her fingertips down his torso - the hint of nails having his muscles clenching underneath her. And when she bit her lip and continued the slow roll of her hips, his head ground back into the pillow and a groan rumbled from his throat.

He couldn't help it; she was a marvel. Perfect. Stunning in every way. And _his_.

At the extra twist she added to the downward grind of her hips, his hands shot up to fist in his hair, in the pillow under his head, anywhere to stop him from grabbing Regina and simply having his way with her. He was going to savour this, savour every moment they were together, because the thought of being separated was just too much to bear at this point.

Regina seemed to agree, slowing the pace of her hips as her touch travelled up his torso, across the muscles in his arms, up further until she was interlacing their fingers and pressing their joined hands into her pillow. As Robin craned his neck to capture her lips in a kiss, he couldn't resist groaning; "can't wait to be inside you."

His words drew out a sultry moan from Regina, a harsher grind down, a bite to his lip... Yes; he definitely needed her _now._

"Regina..." he started, momentarily losing track when she started circling her hips again. "Regina, I need- you need to- I can't-"

For all of his broken ramblings Regina understood him, letting go of one of his hands and worming her way between them, lifting her hips and sinking onto him on the next grind down.

Her forehead dropped to rest against his, their breaths mingling in the scant space between them as their eyes scrunched shut in bliss. After a few moments Regina began to resume the roll of her hips, drawing herself up and down at a steady pace, taking him in over and over again until their skin was coated in a fine sheen of dewy sweat.

The hand she had on his shoulder helped push her upright, reducing the cloying heat from the long moments spent body against body on such a humid day to begin with.

Regina's head tipped back on a gasp, the ache in her thighs nothing compared to the pleasure blooming from her core, the friction winding that coil tighter, not enough to warrant release, not yet, but something _oh so wonderful_ that she couldn't help the loud moans breaking free.

Robin's hands went to her legs, tracing up her calves to her knees and then up her thighs to her hips, spending a few moments sweeping over the skin low on her stomach before he returned whence he came. Her own touch followed a similar pattern from his shoulders to his hips - when she wasn't left too weak-kneed and using her hands as support.

 

The first cant of Robin's hips upwards had Regina leaning forward and bracing herself against her luxurious headrest, finding extra leverage to push back down with. Her hips continued rolling with every thrust, an extra drag to her clit which had her head falling forward as a series of broken gasps escaped her. The long, dark locks that she had swept over her shoulder fell in a curtain around them - as if they needed anything else to help them escape the outside world. It was just them now. The push-pull of his hands on her hips and the feeling of them repeatedly coming together rendering anything else a simply trivial matter. All that mattered was that they were both here. Together. Alive.

 

Unable to stop himself, Robin leaned forwards to capture Regina's lips with his, an arm wrapping around her to keep her body close to him as he sat up to meet her. The action had him shifting inside of her, changing the angle to something that had pleasure ricocheting inside of Regina with every stroke, and she moaned again. With his other arm stretched out behind him for support, there was no need for her to continue holding onto the headboard, and so she wrapped an arm around his shoulders, her other bent between them as her hand grasped his bicep.

 

" _God..._ " she groaned into his mouth, his teeth grasping her lower lip when she put an inch of space between them.

 

He responded with a moan of her name, pushing his hips up to meet hers and moaning again when he thrust deeper than he had before. Regina's sharp cry into his mouth brought forth a lick of satisfaction, one which he would have no doubt been smug about were he not holding back his own shouts of pleasure.

 

The arm around her waist pulled her even further onto him, speeding up the joining of their hips and reducing their kiss to a slack meeting of lips whilst they breathed whispers of ' _oh god'_ and ' _yes'_ and each other's name in between gasps and moans.

 

It was a few moments before they could manage anything else, before the overwhelming pleasure wasn't all-consuming and they had the capacity to continuing the roaming path that their hands were taking as they took what they needed from each other.

 

Regina's touch trailed across the expanse of Robin's shoulders, her hand lowering to knock the locked elbow he was supporting them with, resulting in Robin falling back down to the bed. His immediate reaction was to pull her down with him, to keep feeling her entire body pressed against his, but Regina had other ideas.

 

No sooner had his back hit the mattress than she was pitching forwards, her hands fisting in the pillow either side of his head as she altered their rhythm into quick ruts, no longer partaking in lazy enjoyment; all about chasing release.

  
Robin bent his knees and placed his feet firm on the bed, sharply thrusting upwards to meet her and enjoying the way her short breaths turned into broken moans. His hands trailed around to her front, kneading her breasts, his fingers twisting and tugging whenever he could concentrate long enough to draw out her bitten-off cries.

Robin opened his eyes, looking up at the woman above him. She was stunning. He stared at her face, at her beautiful, perfect features scrunched together in pleasure, and he bit his lip at the knowledge he was the one responsible. He was the one with her. He was the one she wanted.

It suddenly occurred to him that he could have lost it all, could have never experienced the completion he felt with her, and he raised a hand to her cheek, needing to look into her eyes and calm his heart.

Their gazes met and a thousand words passed between them, assurances...

_'I'm here.'_

_'You'll be okay.'_

_'You're safe.'_

"Don't ever..." Robin started, his words becoming stuck in his throat before he cleared it and tried a different approach; "I need you."

Regina's lips parted, but any words that she could have possibly said refused to leave her mouth. And so, instead, she leaned forwards and kissed him, pouring everything she couldn't say into her actions, hoping to god that he understood.

She briefly wondered when this - _them -_ had become so intense? When had this simple distraction become something she wouldn't - couldn't - let go of?

But then Robin was groaning into her mouth, a hand worming between them to rub at her clit and she wasn't wondering anything anymore.

Pleasure shot through her, a sudden rush of heat and bliss and emotions that had her trembling above him, her thighs quivering around his hips as she buried her face in his shoulder. Her hands clawed down his chest, her nails catching and making him hiss before he was grunting with every upward thrust into her. Her pleasure peaked and she muffled a broken sob into his skin, the way her muscles rhythmically contracted and released around Robin dragging him with her over the precipice with a sharp shout of her name.

It took longer than usual for them both to calm, for them both to relax. Regina's hand moved up to frame Robin's face, her thumb stroking over the stubble on his jaw as her breath ghosted over his damp, sweaty skin. His hand smoothed over her spine, soothing passes that had her sighing and shifting atop him to get more comfortable.

It was then that Regina became painfully aware of the ache in her legs, and knew that she'd have to move soon lest she never be able to get up. Grimacing, she straightened her right, lifting off of Robin to lie back on the bed so she could straighten her left.

Not two seconds later she was curling into his side, resting her head over his chest and feeling comforted by the steady thump-thump of his heartbeat under her ear.

“I thought you’d died...” Regina suddenly said, her voice quiet, barely audible, and the surprise of her sudden words took her several moments before was speaking. “I thought... I thought that was _it_ , Robin, and…”

After a moment of quiet Robin shifted, tilting his head to try and see Regina’s face as he asked; “and what?”

She shrugged, pressing her lips together, before reluctantly admitting in a whisper; “I was... It scared me.”

“Scared you?” Robin prompted as he shifted again, nudging Regina until she was propping herself up by resting her forearms across his chest, looking down at him with a frustrated frown and a sigh.

“I don’t do this.” At his questioning gaze she elaborated; “talking, sharing…”

“I feel honoured,” he smiled, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards into a smirk which he had no idea how much had been missed.

“You should,” Regina teased, before their smiles faded and the situation become weighted again.

Regina opened her mouth to speak. And then closed it again.

She couldn’t find the words. All the things she’d felt, all her worries and concerns and fears… They were all such a jumbled mess that Regina didn’t even know where to begin.

He almost died. Robin – _her Robin_ – had almost died, and it felt like fate was reminding her why she refused to let herself get emotionally attached in the first place; it would always tear her apart in the end.

But he was here, underneath her; his eyes searching hers as he tried to work out what she was thinking, his comforting smile trying to encourage her to just _talk_ to him as the backs of his fingers smoothed up and down her sides in a rhythm that had her relaxing with a sigh…

He was here. Alive. _Hers_.

“Regina…”

“I can’t lose you,” she released in one breath, looking nervous, an unsure frown on her face before she amended; “I won’t lose you.”

For the sudden influx of emotions currently rushing into Robin like a wave at a beach, he managed to keep a collected front, a small smile on his face as he regarded Regina with what he hoped was warmth in his eyes. Yes, he was rather surprised at the outward admittance considering her absolute abhorrence for the idea of _feelings_ when they had first discussed where this was heading. But, in all honesty, he hadn't expected to feel so much so quickly either, and whilst Robin believed open honesty and transparent feelings were the best way to handle things, he knew Regina felt differently. So, was he wanting to lead the conversation into confessions of the heart? Yes. Was he going to? No. He wasn't going to delve too deep and scare Regina away from talking to him; he was going to comfort her, and assure her, and erase their doubts together.

He crooked a finger under her chin, ensuring her gaze stayed locked on his as he vowed; “I’ll be by your side as long as you want me there, Regina.”

Regina nodded, her eyes searching Robin’s face as she swallowed. He moved his hand, tucking a long piece of hair behind the Queen’s ear, his fingers lingering when the corners of her mouth twitched into a smile.

Feeling satisfied - for now - that Robin wasn't going anywhere, Regina laid her head back on his chest, hooking a leg over his as she relaxed against his side.

This could only end badly. She was sure of it. But Robin had this way of putting her world to rights, of easing her inner turmoil and soothing her fractured heart.

She could see herself falling for him. One day.

When circumstances were different…

She _could_ love him.

 

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I know it's been so long since I last updated this fic (I'm not even looking at the date I posted the last chapter) but I've been half participating in NaNoWriMo this year (not doing the entire 50k because I simply don't have the time, but I'm trying to write in all my free moments and get at least half way) and have promised myself to work as much as I can, so this should be the kickstart I needed to put me back on track for this fic.
> 
> I hope you guys like this one, it's kinda sad and angsty in places but there's also a lot of feelings going on, in addition to some of Robin Hood's backstory and dark past being divulged here.
> 
> So yes, without me rambling too much here's the next chapter, please let me know if you liked it; I'll blush like a tomato and stutter but I honestly hold every reviewer/commenter close to my heart.

 

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for Robin to fall asleep after being warm and relaxed and sated, Regina's body curled up against his side a comforting weight to chase away the nightmares that fought to claim him.

Regina, however, lay wide awake. Her mind still computing everything that had happened since she had woken not twelve hours ago. She had thought she'd lost Robin. She had found him alive. She had healed knights. She had healed Merry Men. She had lost trusted soldiers. She had lost a friend...

Dwelling wouldn't help matters; listing all the ways in which she could have done more, how she could have saved lives and spared Robin the pain of losing his close friend... It would only lead to her fighting to stay afloat in a pool of darkness, instead of being focussed on the tasks she needed to do.

She needed to assure her people they were safe, she needed to recruit more knights, she needed to make funeral arrangements...

Pressing her lips together, Regina held onto Robin a little tighter at the thought of even more people she had to say goodbye to; knights she had known for years, people she had grown to trust, and a Merry Man who managed to see through her protective guards and choose to become her friend...

George had deserved so much better.

As if the thief could detect the start of her spiral into self-loathing, his arms wrapped tighter around her as he turned into her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as if to send away all of her worries. With a smile, Regina shifted closer into him, grateful that she had finally found a source of comfort amidst the mess that was her life.

The sound of footsteps in the corridor outside had her eyes diverting to the door, glaring as she hoped that whoever it was wasn't there for her. Though there was no such luck; a knock on the door had her closing her eyes, too weary to handle dealing with whatever royal duties were expected of her right at that moment. She just wanted to lie with her thief for a while.

But after the second knock she heard Friar Tuck's voice softly call out. And out of all the people it could have been, he certainly wasn't the most difficult to deal with.

With a reluctant sigh, she raised her head and prepared to invite him in, but then remembered her - and Robin's - state of undress. Not appropriate at all. A wave of her hand had their bodies covered in sleepwear - regardless of it only being mid-afternoon - to cover their modesty, and their discarded clothes from earlier were neatly hidden in her closet. Much better.

Apparently impatient of waiting, the door opened seconds after the third knock, the Friar entering when Regina was only half-way into sitting up, feeling rather self-conscious about being literally caught in bed with the man's leader. Admittedly, he had mentioned their relationship over drinks the previous night, and was not the first person - or even Merry Man - to suspect something. But there were _suspicions_ , and then there were outright _confirmations_.

She'd just outright confirmed them.

Her eyes met his, daring him to make comment, and he seemed wise enough to keep his mouth shut. But then Regina saw Roland curled up in Tuck's arms, and her maternal instincts kicked in.

"Is he alright?" she asked, a frown creasing her forehead.

"He just heard his father had returned, he demanded to see him," Friar Tuck said in explanation.

"Of course."

Regina looked over at Robin, still deep asleep. He no doubt needed the rest; she had never seen him look so weary. But she couldn't send Roland away, not even if she wanted to; Robin was his father, of course he had to stay.

Beckoning the young boy over, Regina shuffled away from Robin so as not to jostle him awake. In a matter of seconds Roland was in the Queen's lap and looking over his father with worried eyes and a pouty bottom lip.

"Is Papa okay, Majesty?"

"Your father is fine, Roland," Regina assured him, a hand making soothing passes up and down his back. "He's just very tired and needs some rest."

"John said he was hurt…"

"He was," Regina admitted, before gesturing to Robin; "but he's all better now, see?"

Roland spent a moment frowning as he looked over his Papa, nodding when he didn't see a scratch on him. Looking back up at the Queen, Roland tentatively asked; "You healed him with good magic?"

With a small quirk of her lips, Regina inclined her head. "I did."

Roland smiled before wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug, and as she wrapped her arms around him in response she caught sight of the gratitude shining the Friar's eyes from across the room. His mouthed ' _thank you'_ making Regina's smirk grow into a watery smile as tears prickled at the back of her eyes.

Tuck seemed to suddenly grow uncomfortable, gesturing towards the door before leaving Regina and Roland curled up on her bed. The Queen couldn't help but press a kiss to the top of the boy's head, gently rocking him back and forth as her eyes glanced over to Robin.

"Can I stay with you, Majesty?" Roland asked, his voice muffled in the long hair he had buried his face in.

"Of course you can," Regina smiled. "In fact, I insist."

With that, she scooped him out of her lap and onto the mattress beside her, holding up the bedcover for him to wiggle underneath, allowing him to get snuggled between the Queen and his father.

It wasn't long before the boy's eyes started to droop, a knowing smile appearing on Regina's face as Roland shifted and practically lay across his father, letting sleep pull him under for an afternoon nap.

The two had a matching furrow in their brow as they slept, the same hitch in their breath before they licked their lips and huffed. It was endearing to watch; the two were so much the parent and child they shared the same mannerisms.

Her heart ached for the times when Henry used to lie across her to sleep, countless evenings spent on the sofa carding her fingers through his hair as a movie played in the background, unwatched by both mother and son. It seemed like forever since she had last seen her Little Prince, and yet when she closed her eyes she could still see his smile as if he was right in front of her, could still hear his laugh as if he had just beat her at yet another game she had bought him...

She missed him. With every beat of her heart.

And despite her refusal to build a connection of any sort when she arrived here, she looked over to the two Locksley boys who had evaded her barbed defences and wormed their way into her affections. They weren't a solution for her pain, but they softened the edges of her grief until she could breathe without a constant ache in her chest. She had good days, and she had bad days, but she could no longer deny that the majority of her good days were spent with the thief and his son.

The urge to stay with them and ignore her responsibilities felt like a good idea, keeping a closed door firmly between the serenity of her room and acknowledging the deaths that have once again added blood to her hands.

But she couldn't. She was Queen. She had to do what was right.

Steeling herself, Regina threw back the covers and swung her legs over the side of her mattress. Her fingers gripped the edge, her head hanging as she took a few deep breaths to build the strength to leave.

"Majesty?" The Queen heard from behind her, and she turned to see Roland with his eyes half closed reaching out to her. "Are you leaving us?"

"Just for a short while, Roland," she assured with a smile. "I'll see you later."

"Can you stay? Only for a minute?"

Regina left out a gentle scoff. _Oh, like father like son_...

"Okay." With a small sigh, Regina lay back down and cosied herself under the warmth of her bedcover again, next to a little boy and a not-so-little thief - the former of which was back to sleep in seconds.

She made plans for what needed to be done, funeral arrangements and ceremonies, assuring the Kingdom's subjects that they were in no danger, anything else that had arisen throughout the day that she had been too distracted to deal with...

The two Locksleys in her bed could stay exactly where they were; it had been a long day and she was loathe to move them. Nobody would enter her room unannounced, a quick spell on her door would ensure that, and she knew they could easily find their way back to their chambers or the Dining Hall or wherever else they wanted to go when they awoke.

It was time for her to get back to reality, and so with a weary sigh she left the warm comfort of her bed and the company currently dozing in it. She dressed herself with a wave of her hand, not bothering to even check her appearance in the mirror as she pinned back half her hair. 

With one final deep breath she left the two Merry Men slumbering in her bed and braved the outside world - but not before leaving a kiss on the forehead to each of them.

...

Robin stirred after a few hours sleep and cracked open one eye, catching sight of the lavish décor of the Queen's chambers and closing his eyes again with a loose smile.

Shifting under the covers, Robin turned onto his side and reached out for the woman next to him, intending to pull her to him and relax for a few more moments before facing the world. But the body next to him was too small, too thin, and smelled completely different from the floral musk scent engrained into the Queen's pillow under his head.

His eyes snapped open as he shifted away from the unexpected body next to him - almost falling off of the bed in the process - but when he regained his senses, he couldn't help but chuckle when he realised he had been scared by the little monster that was his own son.

"Oh, Roland," he muttered, shaking his head and smiling as he wrapped his arms around his son, enjoying the peace and quiet before he woke up and inevitably kept him occupied throughout the rest of his afternoon.

He hadn't held him since he had left, and despite all of the reasons for Robin to be falling apart right now, Roland had this way of holding all of his broken pieces together and putting the world to rights.

Things would be okay.

He would be okay.

…

Despite the somber mood surrounding the grieving Not-So-Merry Men, they chose to spend their evening trying to celebrate life instead of dwelling on it. There were tales shared which made them cry with laughter, reminiscing on the activities George got up to behind each other's backs, drunken anecdotes which painted him as the funniest person alive - who happened to lose all of his common sense after a few ales as he tried to accomplish impossible feats.

Robin offered a sympathetic ear whenever conversation turned solemn, comforting the men in his charge as best he could, but he didn't have time to dwell on his own loss; he was far more concerned with how his son was coping.

Roland himself seemed fine, a little down at some points of the evening, but his eyes were bright and shining whilst staying up 'like a big boy' to listen to the funny stories being enacted in front of him.

It was only once Roland had given in to exhaustion and fallen asleep in Little John's big chair, and the rest of his men had turned in for the night when the loneliness caught up to Robin, his mind still swimming with memories of George.

Initially there was tension between the two; George had made it clear that Robin wasn't a friend, and the only reason he was leader was because he beat Little John in a staff fight. It took two drunken brawls, four heists, three late night confessions and Robin saving his life before George finally accepted him. And even then, it wasn't as a friend.

But gradually they became closer, becoming casual acquaintances, then trusted allies, then good friends.

Before too long they were sneaking away with Friar Tuck for drinks in the nearby tavern, honing their combat skills by sparring in the forest, pulling practical jokes on Little John and then feigning innocence when he confronted them.

He was going to miss that. Miss _him._

Suddenly, Robin felt lonely, a sudden longing for company. His son had fallen asleep down the hall, and so he was sat alone at the foot of his bed, eyes fixed on the moon, feeling rather lost and insignificant.

He needed…

He didn't know what he needed - apart from just… _something_. 

Robin took in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and then puffed out his cheeks as he let it go, finally working up the strength to stand and brave walking around the rest of the castle.

He started down the outer corridors, the ones with windows to the gardens so he could occasionally pause to take in the serene outdoors. The sight of the forest was calming and soothing, a reminder that despite whatever changed, whatever he gained or lost, the closest thing he had to a home wasn't too far away.

The castle was where he lived, yes, and he had his own room, and could live far more comfortably here than he ever could in a camp. But it wasn't quite _home._ He had lived in the forest for almost two decades, had loved, been loved, made his friends, his family… And whilst the castle was starting to feel familiar to him, and the people living here were starting to worm their way into his heart, he hadn't been a part of this life for half a year yet. The forest still called to him.

Perhaps he should go outside for a short while, walk around in the areas lit by torches - and perhaps borrow one to walk a bit further.

With a curt nod to himself, Robin decided that was what he was going to do. A breath of fresh air may do him good, after all.

But as with most of his plans, it didn't _quite_ go according to what he'd intended; he made it past the dining hall, past the main kitchen, and he was just about to head past the library when he noticed the light shining from the crack under the door. Robin was no stranger to late nights, but he was curious as to who else was awake so late in the evening - and working in a library, no less.

He should've just continued to walk outside, let whoever it was do whatever they were doing, but a strange tug had him walking over and pushing open the door before he could talk himself out of it.

A smile grew on Robin's face without him even realising, too busy taking in the sight of his Queen sat surrounded by scrolls, beauty radiating from her as she wrote by candlelight.

He leaned against the doorjamb, feeling the tension in his body start to melt away with every exhale, his mind lessening its turbulence to a manageable level.

 _This._ This was what he needed. Not solitude, not the forest; just his Regina.

"Are you going to stand there all evening?"

Robin stood straight, arms unfolding as they hung by his side, startled, but not ashamed to be caught admiring her. "All night too, if you'll let me."

With a small smile, Regina glanced up at him before returning back to her work, fighting her blush at the thief's compliment.

Robin walked closer to her, resting his fingers on the back of the chair next to Regina. "May I?" he asked as he turned it to face her.

"I'm not stopping you."

As good a confirmation as any, Robin stepped in front of the chair and sat down, scrambling to catch the scroll that he knocked off of the table in the process. Regina observed him from the corner of her eye, trying to hide her smile as he pretended to neaten the papers on her desk to cover his clumsiness.

Regina busied herself with dipping her quill in the ink pot as Robin settled back in his chair, stretching out his legs and folding his arms in front of him. "You alright?" she asked, appearing nonchalant, but secretly attempting to ease the concerns she had been having about how her thief was coping.

Robin opened his mouth and then closed it again, nodding his head in the affirmative. Regina toyed with the idea of pushing, of making sure that he was truly okay, but just as she was about to speak Robin changed the topic.

"You know… I went to sleep lying next to you, and woke up next to my son," he mused. Regina smirked at the frown appearing on his face as he added; "It's rather disconcerting."

Offering an apologetic smile, Regina nodded towards the papers on her desk as she explained; "I needed to get this done."

"Oh," Robin nodded, taking in the scrolls in front of her before asking; "What is 'this'?"

Regina paused, pressing her lips together before hesitantly confessing; "Funeral arrangements."

Robin's face fell, and Regina had a sudden ache in her chest. Her fingers twitched with the urge to cover his hand with hers, but he brushed away his discomfort, and asked; "Do you mind if I stay here?"

"Of course not," Regina smiled. Before trying to get a smile out of him with a teasing; "just don't get in my way."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he retorted, with a smirk and the best, seated mock bow he could manage, before settling back and letting the flickering candlelight, the scratching of the quill, and the comforting presence of the Queen lull him into a much needed sleep.

… 

The calmness Robin found with Regina had disappeared the next day. Admittedly, there was a valid reason for him to be irritable, withdrawn and snappy, but he couldn't remember the last time he had felt _this_ angry. He was convinced he had put this behind him; lashing out over the slightest provocation. But he was hurting, grieving, and if there was anything that could make Robin Hood turn into a man who lost control of who he was, then it was losing someone he cared about.

He prided himself on living by a code, a list of rules to be the best person he could be. And it worked; Robin Hood was known throughout Sherwood Forest as a very good man. But the truth was; good men didn't need rules.

Robin tried not to dwell on why he had so many.

But it was safe to say that the man repeatedly driving his fist into a stranger's gut was not the famous Hoodlem everyone knew and respected. Even his men had been wary of approaching him - and they had seen him at quite a few lows, pulled him away from numerous brawls.

He had been vaguely aware of them calling his name, but he had firmly ignored them. Even going so far as to push John away when he had approached him. He hadn't even responded when he had heard Regina call his name - he hadn't even heard her approach.

But like the Queen she was, she stormed into the middle of the fight and separated the two men without displacing a hair on her head. A purple hue between her palms and their chests, a magical guard to keep them apart.

"What's going on?"

The guy from behind Regina began talking, but she turned to him with a glare, snapping; "I wasn't asking you. Keep your mouth shut."

She turned back to Robin, softening her glare somewhat, but still staring him down enough to let the outlaw know that not answering was not an option.

"I just… I…" he started, before lamely finishing; "lost my temper."

Regina gave a quick glance to the man behind her, cataloguing the bruise on his cheek, and his grimace with every shallow breath, before turning back to Robin and quipping; "Evidently."

"You wait until everyone else at the castle hears about this… He'll be thrown out on his ass before he can say 'ooh de lally'."

Regina turned to face the man behind her. How dare he make threats in front of the Queen? In her _own_ Castle? He did not control who lived here. _She_ did. And if he thought Regina valued his life over Robin's, he was going to be incredibly surprised when she hauled his ass outside and banished him.

"You're not going to tell anyone," she stated, as if it was a fact - and if the person in front of her had any sense, he'd accept it as such.

Alas, he didn't. And scoffed right in front of her.

" _No_? And how am I going to explain my injuries?" He goaded. "Did I 'fall down the stairs'? 'Accidentally trip'? Clumsy old me."

Regina's jaw set as she took in a deep breath, reigning in her anger at someone who dared to joke about the excuses once given to cover _her_ injuries. She slowly waved a hand over the man's torso, the corner of her mouth twitching in a subtle smile as his bones painfully cracked back into place.

"You don't have any injuries to show, no-one will believe you," she stated, her voice low and dangerous. "Everyone here will deny it. And I think the kingdom will take the word of the beloved Merry Men over a simple peasant like you, don't you think?"

The man looked affronted, clearly tempted to argue back but hesitant from the knowledge of how powerful the Queen was, and the darkness currently swirling in her eyes. So when she told him " _now get out of my sight,_ " he did as he was asked.

As he left the hallway with brisk steps, Regina glared after him, making a mental note to make the man's life difficult where she could. Perhaps teach him a little respect. But her attention was drawn back when Robin started to walk in the opposite direction.

"No; you don't get away that easy," Regina stated as she gripped his arm and pulled him back to her. "What happened?"

Robin looked away, avoiding the Queen's gaze and sounding rather adamant when he tried to tell her; "Nothing…"

"Sure looks like it," she gibed, gesturing in the direction towards the man she had healed and sent on his way. Despite how much he obviously wanted her to, Regina was not letting the thief brush it off. She'd been worried about this; Robin starting on the slippery, destructive path one could find themselves on after experiencing loss. She'd had personal experience with that, had already made that mistake, and she had vowed to herself her thief would not befall the same fate. "Robin…"

"It's George's birthday today," he admitted, hoping from the recognition flickering in her eyes that she would put the pieces together and understand.

"Of course it is…" Regina sighed, silently chiding herself. George had told her, asked her to spy for him since he was anxious about a surprise party, and she had completely forgotten. The Merry Men had probably planned a grand gathering for the guy, an entire day of celebration, and now they'd never use their decorations, or give their presents, or tell him to blow out his candles and make a wish… "It completely slipped my mind."

"Yes, so…" Robin started, before gruffly admitting; "I'm not my best right now."

"I doubt anyone is."

Regina took in the way Robin's jaw was still clenched, his hands still balled into fists despite the broken skin on his knuckles, the tension he still held in his shoulders.

"Robin, I know that you're hurting," she began, trying to summarise all she wanted to say into a simple phrase, settling on; "but hurting other people won't make you feel any better."

"Is that from your personal experience, Your Majesty?" Robin snapped.

Regina ignored the sudden pain in her chest, pushing away the urge to retort back or allow tears to swim in her vision; the last thing he needed was more conflict. Swallowing, Regina pressed her lips together and breathed in deeply, reminding herself that he was hurting and just lashing out, the same way she had done many times previously.

 _Guess the thief was right_ , she mused.

And it wasn't as if he was wrong; she had found joy in torturing others simply because it made her life seem a little better. But it didn't truly get rid of the pain; it just made her so numb she couldn't feel it - or much of anything - anymore. She wouldn't let that happen to Robin. Never.

"Yes. So trust me when I tell you; it doesn't work. It just lets the darkness take hold," she responded, refusing to meet his gaze for fear that he'd see through her steel façade - as he always had done. "And you are not me; you are better than that.”

Robin looked at Regina, watching as she still tried to help him even after he'd hit her with such a low blow. Remaining cool and collected when all he wanted to do is pummel the guy some more. She didn't deserve that.

“I’m sorry.”

Regina shook her head, brushing him off. “It’s alright,” she assured, after all; she had heard far worse from almost everyone else inside the castle. 

“No, it’s not." Robin itched to reach out, knowing full well he had overstepped, but not wanting to make anything worse by initiating contact as if he hadn't just upset someone he cared about. 

 “Robin-"

 “It’s _not_ alright," Robin insisted, before soothing his tone and explaining; “I didn't mean it. I'm just… angry.”

Regina offered an understanding smile. “I know.”

Her hand came to rest on his arm, and her touch grounded him, comforted him, made his breath come a little easier and his heart lessen its pounding in his chest. The possibility of her casting a spell on him crossed Robin's mind, but he had somewhat become accustomed to the feel of her magic - the slight tingle over his skin before a faint wave of energy ran through him - and this wasn't magic. It was just _her_.

His Regina.

Her hand moved down to take his own, and she lowered her gaze to take in the sight of his bruised knuckles, her fingers trailing over the damage as she healed it. "You've got one hell of a right hook."

"Thanks." Robin smiled, and then paused as he wasn't entirely familiar on the meaning behind the phrase - then added a quiet, "I think."

There was a small moment where things were slightly awkward, neither really knowing what to say after Robin's outburst, both of them wanting to leave and yet still wishing they could stay.

It was Regina who broke their quiet first, reluctantly admitting; "I should probably get back to… paperwork."

"Paperwork?" Robin asked, already having an idea of what she was doing but still feeling the need to tentatively ask; "For-?"

"For the funerals, yes."

"I heard the Knights' are tomorrow, right?" Robin inquired, having overheard a few of the castle staff discussing rumours and speculation.

Regina hummed in agreement before adding; "So is George's."

"Oh." Robin swallowed, not realising that it would be that soon. "Before or after the others' ceremony?"

"Neither." Regina paused, giving up on plans to sit and discuss the whole funeral topic with Robin at length as she divulged; "He's being buried with Knight's Honors."

Robin blinked, sure he had misheard until his mind caught up. Could she do that? Obviously as the Queen she could probably do anything she set her mind to. But why would she do that? She had known George for barely half a year, had been a friend of his for even less time. And yet he was being given the same funeral ceremony as someone whom she had approved as protector of the castle and it's inhabitants. "Regina…"

"He gave his life fighting for my Kingdom," she explained, pushing down the guilt and grief at the admission. "It's the least I can do."

Robin looked touched, squeezing the hand he held in his grasp as he delivered a heartfelt; "thank you."

Regina's lips quirked and despite her mind swimming with all of the reasons for her to be angry and upset, she couldn't help but feel a little lifted at the admiration in Robin's eyes.

She had to get back though, couldn't stay gazing at Robin all day. "I should go… But I'll be in the library, if you need anything."

Robin watched as Regina started to walk away, but couldn't let her leave him without trying to put a smile on her face first. "I'll try not to pick any more fights, milady," he called after her.

She turned around with her lips curved into a smirk, "you better not, thief."

With an elaborate bow to widen the smirk into a grin, Robin felt his own lips form a smile - one of the few genuine ones he had given throughout the day.

…

Throughout the rest of the day, Regina was never too far from Robin's thoughts, always in the back of his mind. The way that he snapped at her had been completely uncalled for, something he regretted deep in his heart, and he had been trying to find a way of apologising, of assuring her that he knew - better than most - why one should never use someone's past against them. And it was this need which has him searching for her once he had put Roland to bed.

She wasn't in her room, nor was she in the library - though it was several hours after he had last seen her, and he had hoped that she would take a break at some point - and Robin was unsure as to where else to search for her. Standing just outside of the library doors, Robin tried to work out where she would be, and without knowing why, something inside him started leading his steps down to a room on the lower level. He had only been there on a handful of occasions, but if he continued to find the Queen in there, perhaps he’d start frequenting the liquor room more often.

Sure enough, she was sat at the table against the far wall - without the Charmings this time - taking sips of amber liquid from her crystal tumbler.

Robin cleared his throat and the Queen turned to face him with wide eyes, but then upon recognising the man at the door, Regina relaxed and managed a small smile. When she gestured to the bottle and inclined her head in question, Robin shook his head and refused; that was not what he came for.

"I'm not staying long, I just… I wanted to-" Robin paused, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.

With a gentle smile, Regina prompted him; "You wanted to…?"

"I know what it is to carry around a dark past," Robin admitted in a hurry, before trying to explain. "I haven't experienced quite what you have, I admit, but I have done my fair share of bad deeds. And I know that when you try to move forward, the last thing you need is someone using it against you."

With a good-humoured roll of her eyes, Regina turned her torso towards him, almost sitting sideways on the bench. “Robin, I said it was fine."

"And I know it's not," he insisted. "You shouldn't have to deal with that. Not from me."

Seeing the way he was still beating himself up from earlier, Regina swung her legs over the bench and started walking towards him, with the intention of assuring him it was alright.  

"Robin..." she started, unsure of what to say to make him feel less guilty.

But he was still preoccupied with making it up to Regina, completing his earlier vow with a certain; "You won't."

Still at a loss for words, Regina hooked a finger into the front of his shirt and leaned forward to kiss him.

She kept it light, didn't let it deepen beyond the general comfort she wanted to provide. But it was when he barely responded beyond the press of his lips that Regina realised just how off his kilter he was, too preoccupied with seeking forgiveness to indulge in their intimacy.

Regina had to admit that she treasured his attempts to right a wrong, but she had received far worse than a few choice words - he had even delivered worse insults when they had bickered before the start of their relationship - and she wasn't going to let him continue to dwell on this.

“You don’t have to apologise anymore,” she stated, cupping his cheek. And when she saw him opening his mouth to speak – presumably to protest – she placed her thumb over his lips to quieten him. “I forgive you.”

His eyes searched hers, looking for any sign that she was still upset with him, and when he found none his lips twitched in a smile before he leaned forward to kiss her - with more intensity now that his feelings of guilt had been abated somewhat.

It wasn't long before he was pulling back, resting his forehead against hers and feeling grateful that this marvellous woman had chosen to share a part of herself with him.

But it wasn't enough that she forgave him, she needed to _understand._ Understand that they weren't all that different, that he should have known better.

Of course, in the state that he was in, the only way he thought to phrase it was;  "I've killed people too, you know."

Somewhat taken aback, Regina put some distance between them so she could look at him. Reading the expression on his face, she couldn't help but take his hand and lead him towards the table she had been sat at. There was obviously a story to be told here.

Robin ended up sitting opposite the Queen on the other side of the table, and as he started trying to work out what to say, he wished he had accepted her offer of a drink.

"Come on then." Regina leaned forwards, making a show of listening intently, "what dark secrets is the Prince of Thieves hiding?"

Robin scoffed. "We'd be here for hours."

With a shrug, Regina smiled and stated; "I have nowhere to be."

Robin nodded, trying to work out where to start, and figuring from the beginning would be the best place.

"I actually grew up as Royalty; the son of King Richard The Lion Heart. There were all these ideas about who I should be and what I should do, and I didn't want any of it."

Regina scoffed. _Oh the irony_. What were the chances that the one person she had chosen to let her guard down with had a history so similar to hers? If she was still a believer in all that naïve princess nonsense, she'd call it fate.

Unaware of what she found so amusing, Robin tilted his head and inquired a slightly affronted; "What?"

"Nothing…" Regina brushed him off, still slightly shaking her head. "Go on, I'm listening"

"I'd frequently leave the castle, escape my duties and pretend I could have a normal life," Robin continued. And Regina fought the urge to scoff again. "I'd go and play in Sherwood Forest, climb the Major Oak, anything I wanted. But when I left, and started anew, I suddenly had all this freedom and I didn't know what to do with it."

"It's easy to lose your way," Regina empathised.

She understood that, understood the complete lack of control when one had the entire Kingdom at their disposal. Freedom can be deadly. It had made her spin and fall into a dance with darkness, had left her with nothing but a hole in her heart. She was grateful Robin did not befall the same fate.

"One day I was at an archery competition, and I was challenged to shoot a deer…"

"Well that wasn't a smart move," Regina chuckled, and was thankful for the chuckle she drew from him too.

"No; I was better than all of them put together." Robin straightened and puffed out his chest, putting on a show of superiority until Regina laughed. Then he turned somber again. "But when I performed the perfect shot, the drunken man who challenged me became angry and tried to kill me."

Regina grew serious, her voice quiet when she asked; "What happened?"

His response was a simple; "I killed him first."

"You were defending yourself," Regina comforted. If the extent of Robin's dark past was self preservation, he had nothing to feel ashamed of.

"But I could have just shot him in the leg, or the arm… Just something to incapacitate him instead of taking his life."

"When you're in that situation, when you have an entire concoction of chemicals running throughout your body, the last thing you are doing is thinking rationally," Regina assured him.

Robin had obviously spent a lot of time thinking about this, it had surely plagued his thoughts more than he'd like to admit. Regina had never forgotten the first life she took either, the young gypsy girl who had done nothing to wrong her, had never deserved her heart to be torn out of her chest and crushed. She had just been a pawn - Regina saw that now - a way for Rumple to turn her into the monster he needed. And she had played right into his hand. At least Robin had been protecting himself when he took a life, and not merely proving what he was capable of to gain a mentor's acceptance. "You did the right thing."

"Possibly. At first," Robin admitted. "But when I started thieving, robbing castles and carriages, I didn't really care about who was caught in the crosshairs. It was easier to kill guards and forget, than knocking them out and worrying about them coming around to attack you."

Regina tilted her head, seeing the logic. "That makes sense, and probably saved your life on more than one occasion."

Robin slowly nodded. It made sense, sure. And made his life as a thief easier. But it was also wrong. Something he never should have done.

And even though Regina seemed to be taking his confessions well - not once had he felt judged by her - he wasn't entirely sure how she'd react once she knew everything and it had settled in.

"The Sheriff has sent several men to kill me," Robin began again, mentally preparing to tell a tale he had never divulged to anyone - not even his Merry Men. "One was a professional assassin, and he got pretty close; Guy of Gisborne. We got into a sword fight, and I killed him."

"Again; self-preservation."

Robin shook his head, remembering his rage at Little John having been captured by friends of the man trying to kill him, and enjoying the way the sword felt as it sliced the assassin's skin, enjoyed the taste of victory in his mouth.

"He begged me to let him go when I gained the upper hand. He promised to leave, watch over my men, anything I wanted… and still I beheaded him."

Regina couldn't lie; she wasn't expecting that. But she kept her surprise under the surface, not willing to do anything which would have him regretting telling her about the skeletons he hid away.

"You were angry," she started, speaking carefully. "He had threatened your life."

"It was after my wife died. I had ended up in a dark place. I stole just because I could, picked fights with everyone, became rather self-destructive… But I didn't care because-"

"Hurting on the outside distracts from hurting on the inside," Regina finished, meeting his eyes and offering an understanding smile.

Robin studied Regina, his gaze unwavering as he processed everything. "You understand..."

Regina nodded; of course she understood. Brought up by royalty? Check. Rebelling against parents' ideals? Check. Regrets from losing control after experiencing loss? Check.

"I do..."

Robin placed his hand on the table, his fingertips tapping against the wood, and Regina couldn't help but slide her fingers to rest over his and halt the nervous rhythm. He turned his palm up and entwined their fingers, smiling when her thumb started stroking across his skin.

Only a few moments later and the smile was gone, and it appeared that once the outlaw had started sharing, he didn’t really stop.

"I feel like a fraud sometimes," he confessed, eyes downcast.

Regina couldn’t hide her surprise that time, her voice slightly higher than usual when she repeated; "a fraud?"

"People look up to me as some kind of hero. A generous man who helps those in need," Robin started. "If they knew…"

"Robin, nobody is all good. Everyone has the potential for darkness, to do terrible things, but they fight against it. And even when they slip and let a little bit of darkness in, it's what they do after that which counts," Regina explained. "You know the price of life, the imbalance of wealth and power, and you fight to make things better for everyone, to make society more equal."

"It doesn't change what I've done."

"Nothing will," Regina delivered, her bluntness having Robin's gaze snapping up to hers. "But nobody is perfect enough to be put on a pedestal. Everyone has flaws. I could tell you things about the Charmings which would probably have you fainting in shock."

Robin couldn't help the subtle chuckle slipping past his lips, half amused and half intrigued at what the Prince and Princess were _really_ capable of.

"But you have a good heart, a caring heart, despite everything that's happened to you," Regina continued, drawing his attention back to her before she continued. "And that's what makes you a better person than you think you are. A hero."

It meant a lot to Robin that she thought of him as such, and at any other time he would probably be awestruck and unable to do anything other than kiss her senseless. But grieving had him recessing into the dark parts of himself, the doubtful, self-loathing parts, and it would take him a while to fully crawl back out.

"But the darkness-"

"Everyone has their darkness, the parts of themselves they try to keep locked away," Regina assured him, lowering her eyes to watch her thumb sweeping over his for a moment. She focussed on that instead of the dark parts of herself that she frequently wished away, meeting his gaze as she continued; "But I promise you: there is no dark corner of yours that will scare me away."

"Really?"

With a wry smile, she raised her free hand and wiggled her fingers in a small wave. "Evil Queen, remember?"

Robin shook his head, feeling confident as he declared; "not anymore."

"She'll always be me," Regina corrected him, before tilting her head as she mused; "but hopefully I won't always be her."

Robin withdrew his hand from under hers, swinging his legs over the bench and standing, oblivious to Regina trying to work out what she had said to cause such an abrupt exit.

But he didn't leave; instead he sat at the space next to Regina at the end of the seat, turning to her and interlocking their fingers again. "I really admire you, you know that?"

Robin just caught the hint of blush on Regina's cheeks as she dipped her head, muttering a quiet ' _thank you'._ But he still couldn't move past the guilt of how he had snapped at her earlier, the hurt in her eyes and the knowledge that he had put it there, and he needed to get one more thing off of his chest before he'd start letting it go.

"I know how it feels to try and move forward from your past," he started again. "And how it feels when people remind you of it."

Regina rolled her eyes, thinking they had moved past this already. "Robin, honestly…"

"Just let me say this," Robin ordered, and when Regina reluctantly nodded, Robin held her gaze as he promised; "I vow to you I will never do that to you again. You deserve better, and I will try to be that for you."

"I appreciate that," Regina said, swallowing down the emotions welling up inside of her. "And I won't mention any of this - what you told me - to anyone."

"And I appreciate that," he countered. It hadn't even occurred to him that she would have shared this with anyone, one of the reasons he trusted her as much as he did.

There was a pause where neither said anything, and Robin couldn't resist the urge to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Regina's ear, smiling when she turned her face into his touch.

Her eyes caught sight of the alcohol still laid on the table, and Regina repeated her earlier offer; "sure you don't want a drink?"

"I shouldn't," Robin admitted, despite how tempting the thought was after _that_ conversation. "I should try and be my best for tomorrow."

"That sounds like a wise idea." Regina's eyes drifted towards the glass in front of her, and a wry smile appeared on her face as she chuckled. She never was one for making wise decisions.

"But I'm sure one drink before bed wouldn't hurt," Robin compromised, grinning at the mischievous glint in Regina's eyes as she magicked another glass in front of him. The thought of drowning his sorrows wouldn't leave his mind though, and so as Regina unscrewed the lid, Robin stated; "we can finish this bottle tomorrow."

As Robin eyed the full shelves around them, he couldn't help but pick out a few others that they'd likely make a start on too.

"It's a date," Regina affirmed as she poured him a measure to match her own, but then her brain caught up and she stammered over her words. "Not an actual _date_ date, just… a… Never mind."

From the corner of her eye, she saw Robin raise his glass towards her in the start of a toast. Her mind ran amok with whatever emotional confessions the thief would tell her now, unsure if she could hold herself back from returning them. They'd been through too much lately; injuries and loss and late night confessions. And even Regina could admit this was more than what it should have been, could feel herself becoming more attached than she ever thought she would. They were too similar, connected in ways she hadn't ever anticipated, and now she felt herself falling victim to all these romantic notions she would have laughed at mere months ago.

Under the table, Robin's knee nudged hers, drawing her out of her musings. When he had her attention, he lifted his glass and waited until hers matched before he toasted; "to dark souls and good hearts."

Regina smiled, and clinked her glass against his, watching him watch her as they both drained their crystal tumblers. She had barely placed her empty glass back on the wooden tabletop before a finger hooked under her chin drew her into a kiss.

Smiling against Robin's lips, Regina fought not to chuckle as she found the irony once more.

He had just managed to describe the pair of them perfectly.

The dark soul, and the good heart.

 


End file.
